Legacy
by Shayna Leigh
Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father’s office on the day of Galactica’s decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is an AU Lee/Kara story.
1. Chapter 1

**Legacy **

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is (or will eventually become) an AU Lee/Kara story. Rating may change. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing and am not making a profit from this story. **

**Chapter 1: Reunion **

Lee Adama hadn't seen his father in almost fourteen months and that absence wasn't unintentional. In fact, it was deliberate, premeditated, and, in every way, designed specifically to cause his father pain. Because, as far as Lee could tell – at least in the wake of his not-so-perfect childhood, as well as his current state of complete and utter grief – everything _was_, and somehow always would be, _all_ his father's fault.

In truth, their relationship had always been somewhat strained, especially after the Commander had accepted a commission from the military at the ripe-old-age of 35, leaving Lee behind without the slightest hint of moral reservation.

So, while other Dads coached Pyramid and accompanied their sons to Panthers Games, Lee's father commanded a Battlestar, which wasn't altogether unimpressive, but often proved enormously devastating for young Lee, who understood – even at the age of seven – that "family bonding" meant something more than the odd birthday present every couple years, and, subsequently, often felt neglected – and, well, abandoned, really – by the one and only person he had ever looked to for acceptance.

At first, Lee had enjoyed the various toys and trinkets his father bought him from exotic places like Caprica City or the Alps of Virgon. But eventually, the gifts – like his father's visits – had become less frequent and considerably less enthralling. Even as a child, Lee knew that affection – and particularly _his _affection – was not something that could simply be purchased with a new pair of pyramid gloves or an expensive relic from the temples of Geminon. Relationships required time, devotion, and trust: three things his father could never send him via space-mail, while commanding pilots and launching Vipers deep in space.

However, for the most part, it wasn't until after the death of Lee's younger brother, Zak – unquestionably the most important single person in Lee's life – that Lee's resentment and hostility finally escalated to anything beyond mere animosity and disappointment. After that – that is, after Zak had recklessly crashed his Viper, full-speed, into the War College hanger bay during a routine and highly uncomplicated test flight, _everything_, including Lee's already dysfunctional relationship with the Commander, had _really_ gone to hell.

From the moment the Atlantia's CAG had first relayed the incident to Lee, he'd been bitter; and he'd been angry; and he'd been scared. Because Zak was everything to Lee. _Everything. _Everything he'd ever wanted to be. And everything he knew he wasn't. And, at least outwardly, he'd needed someone else – someone other than his rebellious and fiercely loyal younger brother – to take the blame for what had happened. Because, in hindsight, he sure as hell couldn't blame Zak now that he was dead and, frankly, he was running low on other options.

So the Commander had been the easy choice. The target that was safest and surest and most familiar. After all, he'd hated his father for so long, he'd almost forgotten their relationship had ever consisted of anything deeper. Yes, the prospect of hating his father was certainly one he could live with. He was use to that dynamic as far as the Commander was concerned. What he _wasn't_ use to, was his newfound hatred for himself. Because, really, when he thought about it, Lee knew his father was merely a scapegoat: an excuse not to indict the real killer, the true guilty party. Because when Lee was completely honest with himself, he knew, in the darkest depths of his soul, that it was himself – much more than the Commander – who Zak had _really_ followed into flight school.

Of course, it had always been easier to pretend otherwise, particularly at the beginning, when Lee had been too traumatized and grief stricken to really think about it with any semblance of true honestly or insight.

And so, for a time, it had seemed all too logical to simply blame his father. After all, the Commander had always preached the importance of military accomplishment. He wholeheartedly believed that the only legitimate career for an Adama lay with the fleet, flying a Viper – an opinion he imparted frequently, and often too emphatically, upon his children.

Inevitably, Lee had bought into the lie. From the moment his father walked out all those years ago, Lee had wanted – had _needed_ – his father's approval, foolishly believing that if he succeeded in fulfilling his father's expectations, the Commander might be motivated to return to Picon more permanently, where the four them could be a _real_ family once again.

Zak, on the other hand, had never really been fooled. He never ached for his father's approval, as Lee had, nor had he felt the same sense of abandonment that had plagued most of Lee's childhood. He never shared Lee's constant frustration or his contempt at the Commander's various shortcomings. Instead, Zak had simply idolized Lee, who had often seemed his polar opposite in almost every way imaginable, yet steadfastly remained the older brother Zak so desperately wished he could be.

Because, in spite of their shared DNA, Lee could think of few things he'd ever had in common with his spontaneous and quick-witted younger brother. Although Lee had always been personable and friendly, Zak was downright charming. During the few times they'd actually gone out together, Zak had been the life of the party, while Lee was often content to simply observe from the sidelines. Lee's presence was commanding and pleasant, but it was Zak's laughter that lit up a room. It was Zak who drew in the crowd. Zak whose personality had always felt magnetic and magnanimous and somehow larger-than-life.

But in almost every other way, Lee constantly seemed to excel far above his younger brother. He had sharper reflexes, a taller figure, and a more athletic build. He was also quicker – both mentally and physically – and often proved himself a stronger competitor, a superior tactician, and, eventually, a better pilot.

Deep down, Lee had always known that Zak never had any business applying to flight school in the first place. His father had been the one to pull the strings – the one whose name and reputation had ultimately gotten him accepted. So, in a number of ways, the Commander _did_ hold some of the responsibility for what had happened later on.

More importantly, though, it was Lee's footsteps that Zak had been following. It was Lee's approval Zak had been seeking. Because as much as the Commander's expectations had always affected Lee, Zak surely never gave a damn about what his father wanted. He'd proved that time and time again during his freshman year at the academy, when he'd single-handedly broken more rules than any cadet in his year and, often, almost whole squadrons combined. The Commander had been mortified, but Zak remained unfazed. At least, until Lee had gotten involved and explained that flying a Viper was serious business. Thus, while Zak's reaction to the Commander's obvious disappointment could only be described as complete, unbridled satisfaction, the knowledge that Lee might somehow share his father's disappointment had immediately curbed Zak's recklessness and encouraged him back on the straight and narrow.

After that, Zak had done his best to be the perfect pilot. As it was, however, even his best efforts weren't quite good enough to get him past his flight school graduation.

And then suddenly everything had somehow gone to hell. And Lee, out of sheer agony and confusion, had done everything he could to avoid the realization that it was actually _his_ words that had motivated Zak to earn back his flight status and which had ultimately landed him in the cockpit of a Viper on that fateful afternoon.

Yet, during these last few painful months, Lee had finally found ample time to reflect on his own tragic role in the accident that had killed his brother, as well as the biting insults and unwarranted indictments he'd thrown his father's way just hours later. He remembered shouting malicious accusations that now seemed, in hindsight, enormously unjustified. Worst of all, his actions in his mother's home that day had caused him to miss Zak's funeral and the military service that had followed – his one last chance to really say goodbye. And that alone was truly unforgivable.

But Lee was strong. And he was sorry. And, deep down, he knew he had to fix this.

So, after taking a long breath and shaking his head, a look of defiant resolution finally crossed over his features as he glanced at the hatch door in front of him and raised his hand. Quietly, he told himself – once more – that this was necessary. It didn't matter whether or not he should or could or wanted to. This – the act of confronting his father and taking the treacherous first step towards repairing their broken relationship by participating in this ridiculous ceremony – was simply something that Lee needed to do. It wasn't an option. And it wasn't game. This was his father. His flesh and blood. And no matter what had happened in the past, this insanity – this self-inflicted exile – needed to come to an end. So, if his father could forgive him, then Lee was sure that he, in turn, could forgive his father. Well, theoretically, at least. In Lee's experience, reality usually turned out a bit more complicated.

In the end, it was an odd combination of guilt and hope and sorrow that finally propelled him forward towards both forgiveness and reconciliation.

After a long shudder and another deep, extended breath, Lee knocked briefly, quietly opened the hatch, and, after only a moment's hesitation, confidently stepped inside, afraid that if he didn't enter now, he'd lose his nerve completely and never make it past the threshold.

Lee didn't know what he had expected to find inside his father's office. Briefly, an image of the Commander hunched over a large stack of reports seemed to cross his mind. In spite of such pondering, however, the sight that actually greeted him was one that had never even entered Lee's imagination. Quite plainly, it was shocking; and confusing; and completely unexpected.

As Lee had anticipated, his father was, in fact, seated at his desk, looking nervous and uncomfortable, as he quietly – and intently – read over what Lee presumed was the speech he would be giving later on that evening during Galactica's decommissioning. _That_, Lee thought with a small, reluctant smile, was certainly no surprise. His father was a great Commander – after all, he had abandoned his family so that he could be just that – but cheesy public speeches had never really been his forté. He simply wasn't good at being sentimental. If little else, the Commander's shortcomings as a father had taught Lee that much.

What Lee hadn't anticipated was the small blonde child sitting on his father's sofa, playing with the very toy Viper Mark II the Commander had given to Zak on his second birthday.

For a long moment, all Lee could do was stare. _Who was this child? And, more importantly, what was she doing on Galactica? _Lee didn't know much about children, but he was well aware that space was absolutely the last place anyone should want to raise a child. After all, children needed warmth and Lee could think of no place colder and less inviting than a Battlestar.

Repressing a shudder, Lee quickly shut his eyes and convinced himself to breath. Even if this whole situation _was_ somehow becoming more complicated by the millisecond, a conversation with his father was still very much something that needed to happen. And it needed to happen now. So with a heavy sigh, Lee opened his eyes again, this time fully prepared to ignore the child in front of him and address his father.

However, before Lee could utter a single word, his eyes drifted back to the blonde-haired toddler, who was now staring up at him with the largest and most exquisite blue eyes Lee had ever seen.

For a long moment, he stood frozen, too intrigued to make any movement whatsoever.

But in another instant, the spell was broken: the child's attention was drawn back to her toy and Lee – still too tongue-tied and confused to address his father properly – settled for merely clearing his throat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Legacy **

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is (or will eventually become) an AU Lee/Kara story. Rating may change. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing (especially the three lines near the middle that sound familiar and come directly from the Mini-Series) and am not making a profit from this story. **

**Chapter 2: Half-Truths, Secrets, and Surprises**

Momentarily startled, Commander William Adama glanced up from his desk with an odd look of surprise and confusion before adjusting his glasses and calmly resting his gaze upon Lee.

Lee: the son he hadn't seen or spoken to in over sixty weeks. Lee: the son, who, at the age of five, had been among the first to believe that Bill Adama was not merely a soldier and a pilot, but, in fact, a real-life military hero. Lee: the son whose pride in the Adama name had always motivated Bill to strive for the highest degree of honor and accomplishment – a level of success his family could one day be proud of. Lee: the son who had dealt with Zak's death, and the insurmountable grief he'd experienced afterwards, by displacing the blame on _everyone_ and _everything_ around him, most fervently on Bill, himself. Lee: the son who – by all accounts – was still angry, and hostile, and so very different from the passionate and energetic young boy whom Bill had raised and loved and cherished. Lee: _his_ son. Now, his _only_ son.

For a long moment, neither Lee nor the Commander moved. Lee was also relatively certain that nobody breathed; except for maybe the girl. Briefly, he wondered if she were even real. After all, he had been suffering from a rather intense case of insomnia these past few months and, on more than one occasion, could have sworn that he was going crazy. Yes, insanity would certainly explain a lot. Because, regardless of what Lee had thought he saw, the reality was that children simply didn't live on Battlestars. That would be wrong and negligent and completely inappropriate. Not to mention, it was probably illegal.

Without thinking, Lee glanced back at the small blonde once more, noting – with a reluctant smile – that she was, indeed, still occupying a small section of his father's sofa, contentedly clutching Zak's viper and making soft, energetic _Vroom! Vroom!_ sounds as she cheerfully waved the ship through the air, obviously intending to mimic real flight.

Lost in such thoughts, Lee almost forgot the real reason he'd knocked on his father's door in the first place. That is, until the Commander finally spoke.

"Lee," Bill said, looking more earnest than Lee could ever remember seeing him and sounding more emotional than he had ever really meant to sound. "I'm glad you came."

In many ways, it was the truth. Losing Zak had been devastating for the Commander. But losing Lee, too, had been worse. No parent should ever be forced to suffer the loss of even _one_ child, much less two in the course of a single week. And after witnessing Lee's malicious outbursts and spiteful, vindictive accusations shortly following Zak's death, Bill feared Lee might forsake his name and family loyalties forever. At the very least, he knew that their relationship was not nearly strong enough to survive such a conflict unscathed. But, still, there was time to start anew.

In the wake of Zak's death, Bill had regretted almost every decision he'd made as a father, especially his lack of an everyday role in the lives of his sons. So much of his relationship with Lee and Zak had always been through postcards and, now that Zak was gone, Bill wished he had taken a more active role in the life of his youngest son while he'd still had the chance.

Thus, if he could help it, Bill was absolutely determined not to make the same mistake once more. They were family, after all. And, even after everything, Bill knew that somewhere inside the bitter, jaded man standing before him still lived the little boy who had once loved and adored his father. So, if Lee could somehow find it in himself to just be civil and cooperate without flying off the handle for a second time, then surely they could fix this.

Nevertheless, in the face of such intense emotional confrontation, Lee immediately appeared to disregard his father's seemingly heartfelt admission, as well as his own overwhelming desire for reconciliation, and somehow reverted back to his former, very much indignant self.

"It wasn't as if I'd had much of a choice," he said, his tone sounding far more hostile than he realized. "My orders said report to Galactica and participate in the ceremony. So I'm here. But I don't deserve your gratitude. My presence on this ship is strictly business."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. How's your mother?"

"Getting married."

For a brief moment, the Commander looked dazed and visibly shaken.

"She never mentioned that."

"Can you blame her?" Lee asked maliciously.

This time, the Commander was silent.

In all honesty, Lee hadn't meant his words to sound so callous. But after all his careful planning, the sight of the toddler had immediately caused him to panic, subsequently throwing him off-target and drawing up a messy string of old hostilities along the way. Essentially, the unexpected appearance of the child had triggered a large-scale mental retreat within Lee's subconscious, apparently resulting in the manifestation of a kind of heightened _psychological_ _safe-mode_, where Lee's newfound – and highly apprehensive – desire for reconciliation was immediately abandoned in favor of the familiar and the undemanding. In effect, he'd reverted back to the _old Lee_, a man who very much still blamed his father for a long list of familial injustices and personal complaints.

For the most part, though, Lee was still relatively well aware that allowing his emotions to get the better of him was, in fact, a gross tactical error. And, on every level, Lee knew that he was truly much too good a soldier to make stupid rookie mistakes like that.

Inhaling deeply, Lee paused for a long moment, his thoughts reeling. These first few moments were crucial if he ever hoped to mend his relationship with the Commander and, already, he was frakking up.

Finally, he decided to abandon his initial mission altogether and simply resolved to ask the nagging question that had plagued his mind since the moment he'd entered the office.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?"

Before responding, an odd combination of what seemed like curiosity and disappointment appeared to sweep across the commander's usually stoic features.

"Granted."

"Not to sound presumptuous, but what's with the kid?" Lee asked, nodding towards the beautiful blonde toddler on the couch. "Please tell me she isn't yours. Because, really, Dad, I think it's a little late to suddenly be taking an interest in fatherhood. And I sincerely hate to break it to you, but parenting was never really your strong suit."

Lee hadn't actually intended to comment on the girl's paternity. Truthfully, he hadn't even been conscious of the thought until well after he'd spoken it aloud.

For his own part, the Commander looked beyond flabbergasted upon comprehending the implications of his son's last statement. Lee didn't think his father could have looked more shocked if he had told him that Zak was alive or that the Cylons had resumed their inexplicable crusade against Humanity.

"Don't be ridiculous, Lee. She belongs to one of my pilots."

"So you're babysitting."

"I'm helping out a member of my crew."

Suddenly, the ancient, turn-dial phone mounted on the Commander's wall began to blare obnoxiously.

Without thinking, Bill grabbed the receiver and quickly began to speak: "This is the Commander. Go ahead." Then, after a short pause, continued: "Yes. I understand. I'll be down shortly."

After hanging up the phone and shaking his head slightly, Bill turned back towards Lee with a serious expression.

"It appears I'm needed in the CIC."

"Right," Lee said. "I'll leave you to it then."

"Actually, Lee, I need someone to watch Kacey while I'm gone. It should only be for an hour or so and it's almost lunchtime, so you could simply take her down to the mess. Maybe grab her a cookie and a glass of milk."

"Shouldn't we call her mother for that?"

"Unfortunately, that's not an option. She won't be available for another couple hours."

"Her father, then."

For an instant, the Commander seemed startled.

"I believe he's _out of the picture_."

"Well, then, there has to be some other way of contacting her mother. If she's out on patrol, why don't we call down to the ready room and see about finding a replacement."

"She's in hack, Lee. Not out on patrol. So unless you're suggesting I stick Kacey in the Brig . . ."

"Time out. Her mother's in _hack_?" Lee asked incredulously. "How in the worlds did that happen?"

"There was an incident with Colonel Tigh earlier this afternoon. Things got carried away."

"Exactly what kind of _incident_?"

Lee wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but he was fairly positive that this whole situation was somehow becoming more ridiculous – and more unfathomable – by the minute.

"She assaulted him."

Now, _that_, Lee thought with a smile, was the absolute last explanation he'd ever expected to hear.

"Well, it's about time someone stood up to that old lush. He's had it coming for years."

"Perhaps. But that's neither here nor there. I need you to look after Kacey."

Without meaning to, Lee rolled his eyes.

"Isn't there _anyone_ else you could ask? Perhaps a Sergeant or a Specialist? Maybe someone down in CIC could watch her."

"Frankly, Lee, I don't have time to find you a substitute. So, like it or not, you're on your own for this one."

"I'm terrible with kids."

"You'll be fine. Kacey's a breeze."

Not enjoying at all the direction in which this conversation was leading, Lee purposefully chose to ignore his father's previous statement and simply continued his inquisition.

"I'm still not sure I understand what she's even doing on Galactica in the first place. Isn't that some sort of infraction? It can't possibly be legal to house a toddler on a battlestar."

"She's not a _criminal_, Lee."

"No. But after the way you always use to chastise Zak for causing trouble at the Academy, I find it extremely ironic that you're suddenly so willing to disregard the rules."

"These are special circumstances. Kacey's here under her mother's supervision, at my _personal _invitation. So I suggest you stop digging around for answers, obey your CO, and get the girl a cookie like I've asked."

"Is that an order, Sir?"

"No. Consider it a favor."

"Right," Lee said. However, he made absolutely no move towards either Kacey or the door. Thus far, his father's explanations had been allusive and thoroughly dissatisfying. If Lee was going to be stuck playing caretaker for the day, then he was certainly getting some answers first.

Sensing Lee's reluctance to simply leave off their conversation as it was, Bill realized that maybe full-disclosure would be his best – and probably his only – real hope of changing Lee's mind without risking further damage to their already fragile relationship. After all, even if Bill knew little else about his eldest son, he was still very much aware that Lee was incredibly stubborn. His fourteen-month silence certainly served as a testament to that.

Thus, after only a slight hesitation, Bill conceded.

"Look, Lee. If I obeyed the rulebook, she wouldn't be here. But sometimes it's necessary to make exceptions for family."

Confused once more, Lee lifted his head sharply and met his father's gaze.

"And this little girl?" he prompted. "You consider her your family?"

"I do."

"I'm not sure I understand."

Sighing heavily, Bill moved slightly closer to Lee and looked him straight in the eye.

"Her mother was engaged to Zak before he died. You would have known that if you hadn't missed the funeral."

Immediately, Lee clenched his jaw.

"And the child," _Kacey_, he repeated silently. "She's Zak's _daughter?_"

Was it really possible Zak had a child Lee didn't know about? Could Zak really keep that big a secret? Not that Lee had ever had much contact with Zak after Lee had been assigned to the Atlantia. But, looking back, he _could_ remember Zak mentioning a girlfriend. A blonde. Lee tried to remember more, perhaps something about a baby, but nothing seemed to come to mind. He had been preoccupied with his own blonde stranger when Zak had been prattling on about what had sounded like his newest conquest.

Not that Zak had ever been what Lee would have called a player. But he was young and he was charming and, on occasion, he liked to have some fun. So, in light of Lee's own personal issues and romantic preoccupations, maybe he hadn't been paying very close attention to the details of Zak's alleged relationship. _Gods, he was the absolute worst brother in the whole frakking world._ No wonder Zak hadn't mentioned the baby. Lee probably wouldn't have listened even if he had.

"It's complicated," Bill replied, after a long and seemingly thoughtful hesitation.

Surprisingly, the Commander offered no further details, almost as though he truly believed his mysterious explanation was perfectly satisfactory and illuminating.

Frustrated, Lee allowed his temper to get the better of him once again.

"How could it possibly be complicated? Either she is or she isn't. Paternity isn't subjective."

"No," Bill agreed. "But, in this case, it's _complicated._"

"You're really going to have to explain that."

The Commander walked briskly across the room and seemed to pace for several moments, as though mentally determining how to proceed, before slowly turning back towards Lee and looking him in the eye once more.

"Biologically, she isn't actually Zak's child. I had Cottle run a DNA test the day she came aboard Galactica to verify her mother's claims. But she would have been Zak's stepdaughter if things had turned out differently and _that_ makes her family."

So she wasn't Zak's daughter, after all. Truthfully, Lee was immensely relieved. He hadn't liked the thought of Zak having a lovechild or the idea of him keeping her a secret. Outwardly, though, Lee tried to retain his composure.

"Right," he said. "Well, where should I bring her after we've eaten?"

"You can bring her back here. I'll arrange for someone else to pick her up. Do you think you can manage alright?"

"Does it really matter what I think?"

"No. And try and have her back here by 1300 hours."

"Yes, Sir." Lee said, nodding slightly and wondering, all the while, how in the hell he was going to handle a toddler. Repressing a shudder, he prayed that she was potty-trained and moved to pick her up.

Remarkably, Kacey didn't protest as Lee lifted her up off the sofa and into his arms, but simply muttered what sounded like a very faint "hello" and then lovingly snuggled into his shoulder, as though they were the best of friends. Baffled, Lee simply shook his head. This kid was way too trusting. She reminded him a bit of Zak in that way.

Turning towards the door, Lee smiled sadly and held Kacey just a little closer. Some days, he really missed his little brother.

**A/N: I know that my use of the name Kacey is sort of cliché and unimaginative, but part of me really wants this story to read as a tribute to the five episodes in season three that **_**do **_**involve Madeleine Parker (the adorable little girl who plays Kacey on the show), throughout which we see a very different side to Kara Thrace. I think those episodes, and particularly Kara's characterization within them, are sort of crucial to the believability of this story because without them it's eventually going to seem extremely OOC. So, in large part, the use of the name Kacey is really meant to remind everyone that in spite of Kara's tough exterior, she does, in fact, still possess at least some degree of real maternal instinct, however deep-seated or nontraditional. ****Also, please keep in mind that the Kacey in **_**this**_** story is in no way related to the character of Kacey depicted in season three of BSG!**** With that being said, I hope everyone can look past the cliché and just enjoy the story. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Legacy**

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is (or will eventually become) an AU Lee/Kara story. Rating may change. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing and am not making a profit from this story. **

**Chapter 3: Blast From The Past**

Freshly sprung from the lavish accommodations of Galactica's Brig, Kara Thrace immediately set off towards the Officer's Mess Hall in search of both Helo, who currently owed her twenty-two cubits from last night's Triad game, and a sandwich that wasn't mysteriously coated in dirt.

Before entering the room, however, Kara stopped briefly in the entranceway and quickly surveyed the surrounding tables with the rather dubious hope of locating her intended target.

As she'd anticipated, Helo was nowhere in sight. Yet, after completing several unsuccessful assessments of the area in question, Kara immediately found her gaze inexplicably drawn towards a lone – and seemingly unfamiliar – pilot clad in dress blues, on the far side of the room, a small red viper patch clearly visible along his bicep.

For the most part, he seemed a perfectly ordinary officer, except for the fact that he was sitting on the wrong side of the Mess Hall, totally alienated from the remainder of the Air Group, who typically congregated somewhere along the southern wall, significantly closer to the buffet.

Nevertheless, what truly caught Kara's attention wasn't merely the pilot's odd location in the dining room or his obvious disregard for Galactica's prevailing Mess Hall etiquette, but, actually, _his posture_, which was anything but casual and, thus, immediately struck Kara as more than just exceedingly bizarre.

Specifically, his head was turned slightly sideways, at a strange, downward angle, which made it difficult for Kara to distinguish his features with any semblance of true clarity, and he seemed to be seated at an extremely crooked angle, almost as though he were helping someone small, and invisible, beside him.

Intrigued, Kara took several steps forward, silently resolving to gain a better view of his face. After all, it wasn't everyday that new pilots simply _appeared_ on Galactica, and, _this one_, in particular, obviously seemed a great deal more interesting than most.

Within seconds, Kara was standing almost directly to his right and briefly felt her heart quicken as she finally obtained a clear view of his face.

This man may not have been Karl 'Helo' Agathon, but he was certainly familiar.

So familiar, in fact, that when the realization finally dawned on Kara, it hit her like a ton of bricks, and it took every ounce of strength left in her just to hold her body upright.

Without thinking, Kara turned swiftly towards the nearest exit and skillfully dodged behind the open bulkhead.

Breathing heavily, she silently thanked the Gods that she'd escaped before he'd seen her and immediately braced her back against wall, her mind instantly swarming with various – and often conflicting – emotional responses, including heartbreak, confusion, sorrow, and, most importantly, _relief_.

Relief because, in spite of all the complications, this was _Lee,_ after all, and there was nothing Kara had ever wanted more than a second chance with _him – _the _one_ man whose influence and actions had unknowingly changed her life forever.

Kara had been on a temporary leave of absence from her station on the Battlestar Columbia during their brief, but life-changing, three-night encounter.

Originally, she'd been granted the leave only because her mother, Socrata Thrace, had been slowly dying of stomach cancer, and had inexplicably requested a deathbed visit from her only daughter.

Rather than reporting to the hospital, however, Kara had simply stumbled down to Caprica's famous _Ale-House Saloon_, with every intention of drowning her mother's memory in excessive quantities of alcohol and reckless, irresponsible _fun_.

_Instead_, she'd met Lee, who'd offered her warmth, and passion, and love – a level of affection so profound, Kara had never even known that it existed. And, for a while, the sun had seemed to shine a little brighter.

Like always, though, _the good times – _and subsequently Kara's newfound happiness_ –_ didn't last for long.

Just two days later, in what Kara subsequently interpreted as an ill-intentioned, last-ditch effort to enact revenge, Socrata had finally died. And, Kara, inexplicably filled with sorrow and self-hatred, had simply walked away, somehow convincing herself that the absolute last thing she'd needed, just then, was a prickly emotional attachment to forestall – and, eventually, overshadow – her success.

By the time she'd discovered she was pregnant three weeks later, it was already too late; Lee had gone back to wherever he'd come from, and, without a last name or any semblance of real contact information, Kara was forced to admit that, _this time_, there were truly no_ take-backs, _and, certainly, no hope of second chances.

Yet, one way or another, _something_ had to give, and, thus, abortion had initially seemed the obvious choice. It was the easiest, and, in every way, the most logical solution, considering Kara's personal history and frakked up family dynamics.

However, for some strange and utterly unfathomable reason, she'd hesitated, unable to banish the nagging suspicion that if she aborted the baby, she'd subsequently be forced give up the memory of Lee altogether. Because, brief as their relationship had been, somewhere along the way, the two had become so deeply intertwined that it almost seemed impossible to abandon the one, without simultaneously giving up hope of finding the other.

So, she'd taken a nine-month leave of absence from her post on the _Columbi_a, accepted a position as a flight instructor at the Academy, where she could train students without ever stepping foot inside a Viper, and went through with the pregnancy, subsequently justifying the decision by claiming that _adoption_ was the appropriate _next-step_.

But then she'd met Zak, and, somehow, everything had suddenly changed for the better. He'd wanted to marry her, and, gradually, the thought of keeping the baby began to feel more and more like the right thing to do. With Zak there by her side, Kara eventually came to believe that maybe she could prove her mother wrong and learn to embrace whatever maternal instincts hadn't been squashed and shattered by Socrata's incessant psychological mind games and frakked up conception of _good parenting_.

By the time Zak had died only sixteen months later, the bond between Kara and Kacey was already forged and most of the damage already done. Although Kara certainly never envisioned herself as anyone's mother, the thought of abandoning Kacey, after everything, was simply out-of-the-question.

Kacey was not only her last tie to Lee, but her last tie to Zak now as well. He'd stuck with her through morning sickness and strange midnight cravings. He'd even held her hand as Kacey was born, fully prepared to become the father Kacey inevitably needed, but would otherwise probably never have. And so Kara had kept her, even after Zak's death; and she had loved her; and, eventually, she had brought her to Galactica, where Kara's friends and fellow pilots had quickly learned to love her too.

Inhaling deeply, Kara quickly banished all thoughts of Zak and Kacey from her mind and slowly peaked her head around the corner, quickly zoning in on Lee once more, only to be caught_ red-handed_ by Helo, who just happened to choose _that_ particular moment to enter the dining room.

"Kara?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "What the hell are you doing?"

Panicking slightly, Kara quickly turned her head in the direction of Helo's voice, shuffling her feet slightly in the process, and then slowly moved towards the adjacent wall self-consciously.

"Well . . ." she began, intending to simply make up a lie.

"Hold up" Helo promptly interrupted. "Aren't you supposed to be in Hack?"

Relieved at the change of subject, Kara cracked a cocky grin and simply shrugged her shoulders.

"They let me out on good behavior."

Laughing slightly, Helo rolled his eyes in a rather overstated manner and slowly shook his head. _He wasn't fooled for a second._

"Nice try. What else you got?"

"Well, I know this Marine . . . "

"_Right,_" Helo said slowly, sounding completely unconvinced.

"And he cut me this deal . . . "

"Ok, cut the crap, Kara. How much did you give him?"

"Gods, Karl, I didn't _bribe_ him!" Kara immediately countered, playfully attempting to make her voice sound angry and mildly affronted.

"Thirty cubits?"

"I do have _some_ morals, you know."

"Come on," Helo insisted mischievously. "How much was it?"

"I already told you, I _didn't_ bribe him," Kara retorted, her tone challenging and somewhat impish.

"Forty?"

"Sometimes, I feel like I'm talking to the wall . . ." she continued, purposefully ignoring Helo and, instead, focusing the majority of her attention on the bulkhead.

"Sixty?"

"You know, I really think my two-year-old listens better than you do . . ."

"Seventy?"

Rolling her eyes at Helo's obvious persistence, Kara reluctantly conceded the point and adopted an indignant tone.

"Try _seventy-five_. But I almost had him at fifty."

"Leave it to you to frak up at the last minute. What'd you do? Insult him again? Because I warned you not to do that."

"Relax, Ok? I didn't insult him. Some frakking Sergeant caught us mid-deal and demanded I buy off his silence."

"I always knew you were bad luck."

"Thanks," she said dismissively, subsequently turning her head back towards the dining room and resuming her previous position behind the bulkhead, her gaze, once again, fixing directly on Lee.

"So, who're you spying on, anyway?"

"Who says I'm spying?" Kara asked, quickly turning around to face Helo for a second time.

"Well, for starters, you're crouched behind the door," Helo explained, ticking off his fingers as he spoke. "And you keep glancing over your shoulder every sixteen seconds . . . "

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of _on the run_ right now. You know, _from the law."_

"_On the run_, my ass," Helo retorted, stepping out into the entranceway and craning his neck in Lee's direction. "Who the hell are you looking for?"

"For the last time, Karl, I'm not frakking spying."

Looking up, Helo laughed once more.

"Why don't you just make this easy on yourself and come clean before I walk in there and give you away?"

Crossing her arms in an arrogant manner, Kara slowly leaned back against the bulkhead and confidently shook her head.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Hoping to gain even the smallest of insights into Lee's spontaneous – and downright baffling – presence aboard Galactica, Kara uncharacteristically relented for the second time that day.

"Fine. You see that guy over there?" she asked, pointing roughly towards Lee's table. "Brown hair, medium height, looks like a bit of a . . ."

"You mean Apollo?" Helo asked, interrupting once again.

"Apollo?" Kara repeated, confused. "Isn't that . . .?"

"The Commander's son. Lee Adama. He's here for the ceremony."

Almost on instinct, Kara gulped. Lee _Adama_?

"Well, that makes things complicated."

"Why?" Helo asked. "You know him?"

"No." Kara answered quickly. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, since you let him watch Kacey . . ."

Baffled, Kara glanced up sharply.

"What are you talking about? Kacey's with _the Commander_."

"Not anymore. The old man sent me down to get her. He said he left her with his son."

_Frak, _Kara thought, suddenly realizing why Lee had seemed so awkward and distracted. With a small sigh of frustration, she quickly repressed the urge to kick herself for her own obvious incompetence.

"Well, then, go and get her," Kara said quickly, as if this were the most obvious solution in the world.

"She's _your_ daughter. Why don't you get her? You know, now that you've _bribed_ your way out of lock-up."

"Come on, Helo. Make yourself useful for once."

Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Helo quickly shook his head and attempted to look both offended and severely disappointed.

"There you go again with the insults."

"I'd hardly call that an insult."

"I'll just let you get her yourself then."

"Helo, stop messing around," Kara demanded, suddenly more serious than Helo could ever remember seeing her. "I need you to go in there and get her back."

"_Back?"_ Helo exclaimed, somewhat astounded by her puzzling and somewhat palpable distress.

"Yeah," Kara clarified, pointing behind her. "_Back from that guy._"

"He's the Commander's son, Kara. Not a serial killer."

"I know," she said quickly, unconsciously biting her lip in the process. "I just think he deserves a bit of a break. That's all."

"He's only had her for less than forty-five minutes."

"Look, I don't care _when_ you get her," Kara explained, sounding completely exasperated. "Just do it _eventually_, Ok?" Because, really, there was no way in hell she was ready to come face to face with Lee _Adama_ just yet, especially if the Commander had already explained about Zak. It was all just way too weird. And, even Kara, herself, was still having trouble comprehending the wider implications of this whole crazy situation, both in terms of Kara's former relationship with Lee, and also – by extension – the Commander, which obviously begged the question of just how many of these _minor_, frakked up little details the Old Man actually knew. He'd run a DNA test on Kacey, after all. And, not for the first time, Kara immediately found herself wondering precisely how many torrid little secrets that small vial of blood had _really_ divulged.

"Why are you acting like this?" Helo asked, sounding worried and genuinely curious. His query also had the unintended consequence of tearing Kara sharply from her thoughts, and, subsequently, seemed to place her back on the defensive.

"Acting like what?"

"All paranoid and crazy."

"I'm not."

"Does this have something to do with Apollo?"

At the mention of the name Apollo, Kara glanced briefly back at Lee and frowned. In reality, she was having a great deal of trouble reconciling the Lee whom she had met, and known, and loved, with everything she knew of the Commander's eldest son.

"No," she answered slowly, not necessarily intending to sound misleading. Because, in almost every way that truly mattered, as far as Kara was concerned, this wasn't about _Apollo_, the Viper Pilot, in the slightest. It was about _Lee,_ the civilian: a man who had selflessly held, and touched, and ultimately comforted Kara in ways that no one else could, or would, or had ever really bothered to try.

Unfortunately, Helo didn't seem to share Kara's appreciation for specifics.

"It does, doesn't it?" he said, self-righteously pushing the point.

"No," Kara responded decisively, straining slightly in search of Kacey and a better explanation. "But he's probably letting her get all covered in cookie crumbs and she really hates it when strangers try and clean her face."

"Kara, you can't even see her from here."

"Gods, Helo, haven't you ever heard of Mother's intuition?" She was_ reaching _and she knew it.

"No."

"Dammit, Karl!" Kara shouted gruffly, impatience and frustration both clearly visible upon her face. "Just go frakking _get_ her."

"Hold up a second," Helo said, pausing slightly for effect. "I think I get it."

"Think you get what?" Kara asked, bewildered.

"I think I finally understand why you're suddenly so paranoid."

"You do?" she asked, incredulous. After all, he couldn't possibly have known the truth already.

"Yep."

Nervously, Kara bit her lip. Helo obviously believed he'd caught onto something he wasn't actually supposed to know. And if his _stupid_, self-satisfied grin was any indication, Kara was relatively certain that it was something big.

Rather than taking the bait and pushing her luck, however, Kara simply decided to skirt the issue entirely and purposefully refrained from asking what he'd discovered.

"So, you'll get her then?"

"Sure," he said, looking very much like a tiger about to pounce upon its prey. "Just as soon as you admit to_ frakking_ Lee Adama."

Briefly, Kara felt her breath catch sharply in her throat, as her heart began to beat at what she presumed was an unprecedented rate. _She really should have known he'd never relinquish control so easily. _

In truth, Kara had never actually expected him to guess correctly. Well, mostly, she'd simply hoped he wouldn't ask. Because she couldn't very well admit to frakking Lee Adama without opening an endless can of worms surrounding Kacey. And Helo, of all people, was very much aware that Kara couldn't lie to save her life.

But these were desperate times, and desperate situations called for desperate measures, so, without so much as blinking an eyelid, Kara simply crossed her fingers, adopted a serious expression, and tried her best to _just stay calm_.

"No I didn't," she finally responded, sounding far more confident and honest than she ever really knew.

Helo, however, was not so easily dissuaded.

"You did," he said smugly. "I can tell."

"You _can't_," Kara said hoarsely. "You're just being an ass."

"Hey – I'm not judging. You do what you want. All I'm looking for is a little _honesty._"

"Frak off, Helo."

"Frankly, I'm kind of impressed. I mean, brothers, Kara? I didn't know you had it in you."

"You're delusional," Kara said, rolling her eyes and intentionally masking her anxiety in excessive sarcasm.

"No. I'm perceptive."

Shuddering slightly, Kara took a deep breath and proceeded to glare at Helo for a long moment before continuing.

"I didn't actually know they were brothers," she explained, her posture and her tone both completely rigid. "It never even occurred to me until today."

"You'd think his name would have been your first clue."

Slowly, Kara shook her head.

"He never mentioned he was an Adama. In fact, he never mentioned the military at all."

"And you never asked?"

Briefly, Kara glanced over her shoulder towards the far end of the dining room, where she could clearly make out the back of Lee's head.

"I guess, part of me found the anonymity kind of exciting_. _And, anyway, I was sort of preoccupied with other . . . _things_."

"You know, you really didn't need to tell me that."

"Gods, Karl, get your head out of the gutter," Kara ordered sternly, though her smug – and somewhat mischievous – expression appeared to suggest that perhaps Helo hadn't missed the mark completely.

"Come on. You walked right into that."

"It wasn't like that, Ok? It was . . . Gods, I can't believe I'm saying this. It was _romantic_."

"Romantic?" Helo asked, a note of skepticism clearly present in his tone.

"Yeah. At least until . . ."

"Until what?"

"Nothing. Forget it."

In truth, Kara hadn't really meant to sound so cryptic, but even if Helo _was _the best friend she'd ever had aboard Galactica, she simply wasn't ready to talk about her mother.

Because, deep down, Socrata had always been her biggest weakness – the one person whom Kara could never, _ever _seem to please, no matter how remarkably she flew or fought or struggled. And even if Kara was the absolute first to admit that Socrata was – and somehow always had been – a crazy, spiteful, psychotic _bitch_, that didn't change the fact that they were _blood_; and it didn't dull the pain of her rejection or the biting taste of bitter disappointment.

When it came down to it, Socrata just wasn't someone Kara liked to mention without excessive provocation. And, really, in her whole life, there had only ever been one man whom Kara had really opened up to with any semblance of true sincerity or frankness, and he was currently seated on the far side of the room.

"Come on," Helo urged, with a surprising degree of enthusiasm. "I'm interested."

"Hasn't anyone ever told you to quit while you're ahead?"

"It's just a simple question."

"And it's really none of your business," Kara said sharply.

"Wait a minute," Helo instructed slowly, as a crucial realization seemed to cross his mind. "Is he . . . Kara, is Lee Adama . . .?"

"No," Kara answered quickly. Too quickly for Helo not to notice that she was lying once again. _Shit_, Kara thought silently. Her anticipation of the question had given her away.

"_Holy frakking hell, Kara_."

"I just said he isn't_, Karl_," she retorted fiercely, before slowly regaining her composure. "Please try and keep up."

"You're _lying_ again."

"I'm not," Kara said, vigorously shaking her head in the process.

"Yes, you are. You're frakking lying."

"Karl, just go get Kacey, Ok? We'll talk about this _later._"

"Shouldn't we let her bond with her _father,_ first?"

Now thoroughly annoyed, Kara quickly dug her nails into her fists, silently hoping to restrain herself from _clocking_ Helo. She'd already had the privilege of visiting the Brig _once_ this afternoon and she had no intention of making an extended stay.

"Karl, I swear to frakking Gods, if someone hears you . . ."

"Wait," Helo said sternly, the playfulness now completely absent from his voice. "You_ are _going to tell him, aren't you?"

"Do I look crazy to you?"

"Don't you think he has a right to know?"

"Not particularly," Kara said, looking away and silently praying Helo wouldn't catch her in yet another lie. Because, in reality, Kara _did, _eventually_,_ want Lee to know the truth.

But she wanted to tell him in her own way, and on her own terms, under the best of possible circumstances. And, frankly, this was none of Helo's godsdamn frakking business.

Miraculously, however, Helo finally failed to acknowledge Kara's deception, and, instead, simply maintained his indictment against her.

"Kara, if he's her father, then you have to tell him. This is his _child_ we're talking about."

"No," Kara said firmly. "This is _my child_ we're talking about. And I'm not going to disrupt her whole life just because Lee happens to be here for a few _hours._ The last time I saw him was more than _two years ago_. He could be married by now. He might even have a _family_. I don't want him to think of her as a burden."

"He won't," Helo said confidently. "Even if he has another family."

"Can you please just _get her?_" Kara finally demanded, now visibly shaken and upset.

Recognizing the emotional toll Kara's various revelations had ultimately taken, Helo slowly drew a deep breath and contemplated the possibility of an actual surrender.

"You_ really_ want me to?" he asked.

"Yes. Have I not been saying that for the last ten minutes?"

For a long moment, Helo continued to merely stare at Kara, who could have sworn she saw the metaphorical wheels moving through Helo's head, as he mentally contemplated his next few words.

Eventually, he let out a low sigh and seemed to nod his head in an assenting manner.

"Yeah," he said. "I'll get her."

"Thank you. I don't know why you couldn't have just done that earlier."

"Because this is wrong. And – this past conversation aside – you're generally not a _liar_."

"_Right,_" she said, sarcastically, moving towards Helo and away from the Mess Hall. _"_I'll see you later."

"Where are you going?"

Turning around, Kara glanced briefly back at Helo, rolled her eyes dramatically, and slowly shrugged her shoulders.

"I need a drink."

"Kara, it's the middle of the afternoon," Helo exclaimed incredulously.

"And?"

"_And_ the ceremony starts in thirty minutes. You're flying a viper, remember?"

"Actually, I'm not," Kara said bitterly. "Tigh revoked my flight status until further notice."

"Can he do that?"

"Well, _he did_."

"We could always _bribe him_ into reinstating it," Helo offered playfully.

"Come off it, Helo. That charge was bogus and you know it."

"I just want you to know you have options."

"Well, that's off the table," Kara explained, looking relatively sour and more than just a slight bit disappointed. "I'm completely out of cubits."

"I may have a few you can borrow."

"_Borrow?" _Kara exclaimed, while simultaneously gawking at Helo so intensely he almost cringed. "If I remember correctly, you still owe me _more than a few_ from last night."

"That's what I meant."

"You know, what? Just go get Kacey and we'll call it even, Ok? I'll earn back the cubits tonight."

Struggling back a laugh, Helo raised an eyebrow and slowly shook his head. She was making this _so damn easy_. Helo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Kara so completely frazzled. _And he owed it all to Lee Adama. _

Noting his strange reaction, Kara immediately rolled her eyes, smiling slightly.

"At the _Triad table_, you jackass."

Laughing silently, Kara turned away and slowly began walking down the opposite corridor.

"Right," Helo said, calling loudly after her retreating figure. "I'll bring the suckers."


	4. Chapter 4

**Legacy**

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is (or will eventually become) an AU Lee/Kara story. Rating may change. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing and am not making a profit from this story. **

**Chapter 4: Paper Walls and Paper Airplanes**

Kara Thrace was_ not _a happy camper. In fact, Kara Thrace was more confused, and baffled, and utterly distressed than she'd ever felt in the last thirteen months combined, which was _really_ saying something, especially considering the recent loss of her fiancée and her mounting responsibilities as both a pilot and a single mother.

Surprisingly, such confusion wasn't _just_ because of Lee, though he had certainly been the trigger, in one sense or another.

In reality, Kara was frustrated by a large combination of individual factors, the most prominent of which was Zak, and the selfish – and rather devastating – realization that, given the circumstances, Kara was actually glad they'd never gotten married. Because, when Kara was completely honest with herself, she knew – with absolute certainty – that she never would have stayed with Zak, if she had known the truth about his older brother. And even if Zak's Viper accident hadn't killed him outright, the knowledge that Lee was Kacey's biological father certainly would have done so later.

Yet, regardless of their cause, Triad seemed to provide the perfect distraction from any and all of Kara's personal woes, and, thus, easily explained her current presence in the rec room, surrounded by Helo and several other pilots, including Racetrack, Crashdown, and Sharon 'Boomer' Valerii.

Generally, Triad was the game of choice among Galactica's flight crew, with Kara typically controlling the show.

Tonight, however, Kara seemed particularly out of sorts, and, subsequently, Helo convinced himself that – as her friend – it was somehow left to him to take her place.

Thus, after mentally deciding on such a course of action, Helo immediately grabbed a stack of Triad cards from the center of the table and quickly began to cut the deck in Kara's stead.

"All right, boys and girls," he announced loudly, attempting to mimic Kara's commanding tone, and subsequently drawing in a fair amount of public interest. "Who's ready to put up some cubits?"

For a long moment, almost everyone within the surrounding area seemed to glance towards Kara, as though attempting to discern whether she would allow this apparent breach of rec room protocol to continue unimpeded.

Consequently, when Kara failed to produce any semblance of real reaction, one way or the other, chaos immediately seemed immanent and downright inescapable.

Thankfully, however, Lieutenant Sharon Valerii was among the first to recover her wits and quickly decided that a heavy dose of damage control was undoubtedly in order.

Thinking quickly on her toes, Sharon thus decided that humor would probably be the fastest means of diverting attention away from Helo and back on the game at hand.

"Gods, Helo," Sharon said playfully. "I'm surprised you have anything left. I thought Starbuck wiped you clean the other night."

And, just like that, all the tension seemed to disappear.

"Have a little faith," Helo proclaimed, gesturing proudly towards his standard issue military fatigues. "These pockets are _endless._"

"Ok, you two," Racetrack said in a mock authoritative voice. "Stop frakking around and deal the damn cards already."

After a quick joke about not taking orders from rookies, and an ensuing smack on the back of the head from Sharon, Helo slowly began dispensing the deck around the table.

Before any semblance of real headway was gained, however, Dwight 'Flat Top' Saunders, a young raptor pilot, whose habitual proclivity for botched, and utterly horrendous, flight-deck landings had immediately made him infamous aboard Galactica, quickly entered the pilot's rec room, and waved briefly in their direction.

"Hey, Starbuck," he said, with slightly too much gusto. "Got room for one more?"

Although Kara would never admit to it in public, Flat Top was secretly one of Kara's favorite companions. Sure, he was annoying and, like many rooks, could certainly be a pain in the ass. But he was also one of the few pilots aboard Galactica who had_ immediately_ accepted Kacey, with absolutely no misgivings and zero questions asked. And, _for that_, Kara would always be grateful.

"Yeah," she replied, barely glancing up from her cards. "Grab a seat."

Pulling out the only chair still left at the table, Flat Top quickly sat down next to Sharon and silently placed the contents of his pockets on the table.

For the most part, such contents consisted mostly of cubits, but there was one odd-shaped-_something_ that seemed to catch the attention of several other players at the table, including Crashdown, who was obviously incapable of keeping his opinions, and – apparently – his insights, to himself.

"Flat Top, what the hell is that?" Crashdown asked gruffly. "A paper airplane?"

"Are you kidding?" Flat Top replied, looking incredulous and exceedingly appalled. "This is an _F-16 Falcon_. It's a_ classic." _

Crashdown, however, wasn't remotely impressed.

"It's a frakking piece of cardboard."

"Actually, it's recyclable cover stock," Flat Top explained, tenderly running a finger across one of its wings.

"Flat Top," Helo said, sounding slightly exasperated. "The rest of us don't know what the frak that means."

"Yeah," Crashdown agreed. "And aren't you a little old to play with _toys_?"

"It's for Kacey, you frakker," Flat Top quickly retorted, before turning towards Kara and continuing. "I thought she might like it."

"Gods, Flat Top, sucking up already?" Crashdown asked, appalled. "That's pathetic, even for you."

"Alright, frak you guys," Flat Top said, glancing back and fourth between Helo and Crashdown. Turning away, he quickly directed his attention on Kara once more. "Just…give it to her. Ok?"

"Yeah," Kara said, accepting the plane and smiling politely. "It's great. She'll love it."

"Where_ is_ the little nugget, anyway?" Racetrack asked, suddenly realizing Kacey was nowhere in sight.

"Cally's got her down on the flight deck. The chief made her this stupid little rocking flying-saucer-_thing_ and they wanted to run some test flights."

"Test flights?" Racetrack asked, sounding baffled and slightly in awe. "You mean it actually _flies_?"

"Well, no," Kara replied, scrunching up her nose in thought. "Technically, I guess it doesn't leave the ground…just kind of rocks and rolls and spins a bit. But she seemed to like it. And I figure it'll be a few more years before the Commander lets me put her in a real ship…"

"Speaking of the Commander…" Helo interrupted with a wicked grin. "I hope you don't mind, but I may have invited your good friend, _Lee Adama_, down to join our little party…"

"You didn't," Kara said, directing a fierce glare at Helo from across the table.

"Like I said, I _may have_. Though, to be honest, I really doubt he'll show…didn't really seem the gambling type."

"Gods, Helo, couldn't you have kept your frakking mouth shut _just this once_."

"I didn't know you knew Apollo, Starbuck," Sharon said with considerable interest and surprise.

"I don't."

"Don't be modest, Kara," Helo immediately replied, before glancing back at Sharon and deciding that it was high time to throw a bit of fuel on this friendly little fire. "They go way back."

"We don't," Kara said, doing her best to feign innocence and only _mild_ annoyance. "He's exaggerating."

"Well, Ok, so maybe they're not exactly f_riends, _per say," Helo continued, unfazed. "But they're _close_. Some may even say they're _intimate_."

"Helo, shut the frak up," Kara mumbled quickly, while tactfully kicking Helo firmly in the shin from underneath the table.

"Frak, Kara, what the hell?"

"Alright guys," Racetrack interjected. "You wanna kill each other? Do it in the ring. The rest of us are here to play some cards."

"Yeah," Crashdown agreed. "In or out? What's it gonna be?"

"I'm in," Helo announced, throwing down some cubits.

"Out," Kara said, turning her cards, face-up, on the table and pushing them towards Helo.

"Come on, Starbuck," Flat Top said, sounding disappointed. "We haven't even played one hand."

"Sorry guys. I've got places to be…"

"And Captains to frak," Crashdown put in with a sly smile. "We get it."

"Piss off, Crashdown," Kara retorted, as the smile vanished from her face.

"Yeah. Ok. Say 'hi' to Apollo for us."

At that, Kara quickly turned around and began to walk away.

"Hey, Kara," Helo shouted rather loudly from across the table. "If you're looking for someplace _romantic _to take him, you might want to try the 3rd level observation deck. I hear it's very _quiet_. And, you know, good for _talking_."

"Or _frakking,"_ Crashdown interjected with a roguish grin.

Under normal circumstances, Kara actually liked Crashdown. He was funny and typically played a mean hand of Triad.

At the moment, though, he was acting like a total prick. And Kara wanted nothing more than to shut him up forever.

Then, of course, there was Helo, whom Kara secretly wanted to _kill_. Because mocking her privately was _one_ thing. But _this _was crossing the line. If Helo didn't agree with her decisions, that was fine. Kara wasn't conceited enough to believe that everyone agreed with her 100 percent of the time. But, once again, Helo was sticking his stupid opinions where they didn't frakking belong. And, if Kara could help it, somewhere down the line, he was certainly going to pay.

For the moment, however, Kara merely clenched her fists – and her jaw – and simply kept on walking.

"Starbuck, you forgot Kacey's F-16," Flat Top shouted, holding up the plane and waving it around above his head.

While Kara gave Flat Top no indication that she'd heard him mutter even a single word, Crashdown made a very big – and rather obnoxious – show of rolling his eyes and laughing rudely.

"Give it up already, Flat Top. She doesn't want your stupid paper airplane."

In reality, Kara _did_ want the airplane, mostly because she knew that Kacey would adore it. But there was simply no way in hell she was going back in there. In fact, there was no way in hell she was _ever_ speaking to Helo again.

Dejected, Flattop slowly lowered his hand and let the airplane fall smoothly to the floor.

Even from Kara's position on the opposite side of the room, she heard the crisp – and somewhat unmistakable – sound of scraping paper as the F-16 made it's first-ever contact with the ground. And, without meaning to, she cringed.

Abandoning Flat Top and his F-16 was, in every way, the wrong decision.

But, for the sake of everyone's safety, Kara absolutely needed to get as far from Helo and Crashdown as humanly possible, regardless of whom she had to turn her back on in the process.

With that reality in mind, Kara quickly drew a breath and kept on moving.

She'd just have to make it up to Flat Top later.

Checking her watch, Kara realized that she wasn't due to pick up Kacey in the Hanger Bay for another hour, and, subsequently, headed swiftly towards the gym.

After this last incident at the Triad table – on top of everything that had already gone down this afternoon – Kara's remaining patience was certainly wearing thin, and, if she didn't find a way to get out her aggression soon, she feared that Helo's face might never look the same.

**A/N: I don't know if anyone actually reads these, but I just want to throw this out there… According to canon, I know that the Cylons probably should have attacked by now. However – for a number of creative purposes – I've decided to postpone that particular event for another couple hours. I promise, though, it won't be for very long…this is only a temporary reprieve. I hope that doesn't bother anyone. Anyway, sorry about the author's note, I just thought that maybe an explanation was in order… Happy Reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Legacy**

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is an AU Lee/Kara story. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing and am not making a profit from this story. **

**Chapter 5: Boxing Gloves and Broken Hearts**

Lee Adama had exactly thirty cubits in his pocket, and, no matter what he had to do or who he had to fool, he planned to double that amount by midnight.

Normally, Lee wasn't much of a gambler. He was too trusting, typically wore his emotions too plainly on his sleeve, and certainly never had much of a poker face.

But Lee had _six_ full hours to kill before he was scheduled to escort _Colonial 798_ back to Caprica City, during which the Commander would be stuck in endless meetings with the Secretary of Education, and, _godsdammit_, he was feeling lucky. He'd survived a toddler, after all.

Not that Kacey had really given Lee much of a problem. If anything, the opposite was true. She'd been perfect, and sweet, and absolutely frakking adorable the entire time they'd spent together, which was actually a first for Lee, who was usually something of a _train wreck_ when it came to little children.

On his way to the pilot's rec room, however, Lee found himself briefly thrown off guard by a familiar blonde tearing down the hall with more intensity and purpose than a bat straight out of Hell.

Allowing his curiosity to get the better of him, Lee decided to forgo Triad in order to follow the blonde, whom he immediately recognized as Kara, a woman he'd met almost three years ago, on the very day he'd learned his parents had finally decided to end their marriage in divorce.

Naturally, Lee had blamed his father – and his relentless obsession with the Military – for the dissolution of his parent's marriage, and had subsequently decided to temporarily forsake any and all tangible connections to Bill Adama and his family name.

Thus, hoping for anonymity, Lee had taken off his dog tags before heading out on the night he'd first met Kara – the first and only time he had ever gone somewhere without them – and had intentionally avoided any mention of the fleet.

By the looks of things, she'd obviously done the same.

Keeping several paces behind her, Lee eventually followed Kara through numerous corridors, down two flights of stairs, and into the weight room, where he tactfully waited in the entryway, as she adorned a large pair of boxing gloves and began mercilessly beating a large punching bag in the corner of the room.

For a few brief moments, Lee was simply too surprised to even blink. The last thing he'd expected to find this afternoon was the one woman who had gotten under his skin _so completely_ that he'd spent months – and, well, _years,_ really – agonizing over her desertion.

Finding her now – aboard Galactica, of all places – was truly the last thing Lee had ever expected. He hadn't even known she'd been a pilot, much less one of the few actually living on his father's ship.

Looking back, though, Lee realized that perhaps he should have known. After all, there had certainly been clues. And, in a lot of ways, Kara seemed to fit the profile.

She'd been brash, and vulgar, and cocky when he'd met her. The vulnerability hadn't come 'till later. Not until after they'd closed all the curtains and turned down the lights.

For several long minutes, Lee simply watched as Kara continued to brutally pound the punching bag with extraordinary force. The more he watched, however, the more he wondered precisely what had worked her into such a violent frenzy in the first place. And the more he wondered, the less he seemed content to merely observe from the sidelines without taking any real action of his own.

Thus, Lee eventually decided that it was high time he took matters into his own hands, and, subsequently, moved towards Kara's corner of the room.

"That's quite an arm you've got there," he said, stopping alongside her, several feet away.

Without so much as glancing up, Kara simply squared her shoulders towards her moving target, and let out a small grunt of annoyance before firmly decking the punching bag in front of her.

"Get out," she replied harshly, without even a single glance in Lee's direction. "Or you're next."

"Well," Lee said smiling, "I'd certainly hate to be on the receiving end of a hit like that."

"_Out_," she repeated, still not looking up. This time, though, her tone was even angrier, and, if possible, a great deal more intimidating.

"You know," Lee continued, without raising an eyebrow or even moving a foot. "You seem a lot more tense than I remember."

Lifting her head for the first time, Kara glanced briefly into a very familiar pair of deep sapphire eyes, and proceeded to scowl. How in the worlds had he found her?

"What are you doing here, Lee?" she asked, attempting to seem at least mildly detached.

"You know, I think I could ask _you_ the same question."

"You didn't, though, did you?" Kara asked with a grin, as she released another punch.

"Well, it's a bit of a funny story really…" Lee replied, moving closer and subsequently leaning up against the back-end of a large workout bench.

"You should probably go with the short version…if you don't mind."

"To tell you the truth, Kara, I'm actually a lot more interested in what _you're_ doing here, especially since, the last time we met, you said you played _Pyramid_. Forward guard, if I remember correctly."

"That was a _joke_," Kara replied, stopping the swinging bag with her hand, while slowly attempting to catch her breath.

"_Real funny_, Kara."

"Look, it's not _my _fault that you're a gullible moron."

Under different circumstance, Lee may have been surprised, and perhaps even slightly outraged, by Kara's audacity – he outranked her, after all – and, as such, he probably would have taken considerable offense to Kara's biting insults.

As it was, he merely grinned. Kara's sense of humor was sarcastic, and twisted, and perhaps even slightly wicked, but she wasn't _heartless. _And she certainly wasn't cruel.

More likely, she was simply messing with his head, probably for an extensive of list of crazy reasons Lee could never even hope to understand.

"Yeah, well, imagine my surprise when I called the CPL looking for a rookie named Kara and no one knew who the frak I meant."

"Ok," Kara replied, removing her gloves in an overly exaggerated manner. "So, I'm a liar. Big frakking deal."

"You can lie all you want," Lee countered, increasingly serious. "I just wish you'd had the decency to say goodbye."

Because, in reality, she hadn't given Lee any semblance of _fair warning_ before her mysterious – and downright inexplicable – departure, during their original three-night rendezvous.

Instead, she'd merely woken up while Lee had still been sleeping, skillfully gathered up her things, and then silently closed the door behind her, without so much as leaving a note, a number, or even a surname.

"Are you looking for some sort of apology?" Kara asked, picking up a small water bottle and immediately taking a swig. "Because, I should probably warn you, humility isn't really my strong suit."

"No," Lee said with a small, confident smile. "I think I know you better than that."

"Well, you're certainly the first to make that particular assumption."

"And, I guarantee you," Lee continued, "I'm the last."

Immediately, Kara glanced sharply back at Lee and placed her hands firmly on her hips, clearly making an exaggerated show of her annoyance.

"You sound awfully confident for someone who barely spent three days with me."

"Yeah, well, some things _you just_ _know_."

"Right," Kara replied sarcastically, while simultaneously removing several strands of medical tape from around her swollen wrists.

"Look, all I'm saying is, an _explanation_ might be nice."

"An explanation?" Kara repeated, seemingly baffled and slightly put off.

"Yeah," Lee confirmed. "I figure the least you can do is tell me _what the frak_ I did wrong."

"You want to know what _you_ did wrong?" She asked, seemingly surprised and a little bit incredulous.

"Yeah," he said, sounding genuine and perhaps overly emotional. "What scared you away?"

"Nothing," Kara answered, looking Lee straight in the eye for a brief instant before quickly diverting her gaze.

"Nothing?" Lee asked skeptically. "So, what then? You just got bored?"

"My mother died, Ok? It wasn't anything personal. I just needed some space."

"Wow," Lee said, as though genuinely taken aback. "That certainly wasn't the answer I was expecting. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Kara replied firmly, but seemingly somewhat pained. "We weren't close."

"It's not fine," Lee argued. "I shouldn't have pushed you."

"Just drop it, Ok? I'm glad she's gone."

"Look, I know how you feel," he said. And, as far as he knew, he genuinely thought this was the truth.

"Believe me, you don't."

"No," Lee said, gently reaching out to touch her waist. "I do. My brother died a little over a year ago."

"This is different," Kara said, immediately turning away.

"It isn't."

"No, it i_s_," Kara countered, this time more forcefully. "I heard about your brother, Ok? He was a _good_ guy who was in the _wrong_ place at the _wrong_ time. My mother…well, let's just say, she was an evil, vindictive _bitch_ who deserved every ounce of pain she suffered." For a long moment, Kara paused to catch her breath before continuing. "So, now that you have all the facts, are you sure you're still willing to make that comparison? For your brother's sake, I really hope you aren't."

"So, you've heard about my brother," Lee said, obviously hoping to change the subject. "Does that make it safe to assume you've already figured out who I am?"

"It'd be hard not to," Kara answered with a laugh. "You've become quite the celebrity around here, _Captain Apollo_."

"I guess that sort of comes with the territory."

"And what territory might that be?"

"The inherited kind," Lee said with a bitter expression. "The only reason anyone on this ship even gives a damn about me is because I'm the Commander's son."

"And, you know, your ass is kind of nice," Kara replied with a small, seductive smile. "I'm thinking that might help as well."

"Now, there's a theory I hadn't thought of."

"Hey – no need to thank me," Kara clarified in a playful, flirtatious tone. "I'm glad to help."

"You know, you really _are_ a lot different than I remember; but not _just _because you're tense. I think you're also happier. And, if it's possible, maybe even slightly more sarcastic."

"You can thank your father for that," Kara explained, this time, adopting a serious tone. "Galactica's been good to me."

"I can't believe you've been stationed on my father's ship this _whole_ frakking time," Lee said, looking at Kara. But, in reality, he was mostly speaking to himself.

Because, truthfully, none of this made any sense. And Lee was fairly positive that he was dreaming.

"Not the _whole_ time," Kara mumbled, refusing to look Lee in the eye. "But for awhile now…"

Lee, however, was too preoccupied with Kara's sudden reappearance in his life to notice anything out of the ordinary in her response.

"Kind of crazy, isn't it?"

"You have _no_ idea…" Kara replied, shaking her head.

"Kara, come on, _I get it."_

Lee was speaking of their separation. After all, Kara's rejection, and perceived desertion, had been hard on him, especially in light of Lee's childhood relationship with the Commander. And, thus, having found her once again, Lee was truly overjoyed.

Kara, on the other hand, was preoccupied with thoughts of Zak and Kacey, as well as the rather ironic realization that Lee had absolutely no idea what kind of sordid, frakked up _mess_ he was truly getting into.

"Believe me," she countered. "You really _don't."_

"Hey," Lee said, taking a single step forward and gently lifting her face with his hand. "It's _me_. I _know_."

In reality, he didn't know the half of it. But his confidence was adorable, and, frankly, Kara was grateful for the admission – and the sentiment – regardless of the details.

Besides, they had all the time in the world to hash out the particulars. Right now, all Kara really cared about was _Lee_ and the second chance she'd thought she'd never have.

Steadying her breath and stepping slightly closer, Kara finally decided that perhaps it wouldn't hurt to _just be honest._

"Look, Lee, for what it's worth, I'm sorry I left."

Inhaling deeply, Lee took another small – and torturous – step forward, effectively closing the short distance still left between them.

"Me too…" he said, slowly lifting up Kara's exposed dog-tags and glancing briefly at their inscription. "…Kara Thrace. It's nice to finally know your last name."

"Yeah," Kara said, feeling dazed and slightly disbelieving. Was this really happening?

"You still need some space?" he whispered softly, gently nibbling her ear and dragging his fingers slowly down her spine.

"No," she said, as her breath caught slightly and her heart began to race.

Lee was officially the only guy who had ever had such an immediate – and overwhelming – sway on her emotions.

And, thus, when he finally kissed her, with his mouth perfectly moist, and slow, and slightly open, Kara felt her knees go weak.

And, for as long as it lasted, Kara could think of nothing but Lee, and how wonderful – and truly excruciating – it felt _just _to kiss him.

And it was _then_ that Kara realized exactly how much more of Lee she _really_ wanted.

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing! And, on a completely separate note, sorry for the extreme cheesiness at the end there… I don't know what came over me…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Legacy**

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is an AU Lee/Kara story. Rating may change. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing (particularly the three lines near the end that come directly from the mini-series) and am not making a profit from this story.**

**Chapter 6: Love & The End of the Worlds**

At exactly 0300 hours on the morning after Galactica's decommissioning, Kara Thrace woke up to the rather ungodly sound of a slamming door.

Groggily, Kara yawned, stretched her arms, and slowly rubbed her eyes. _Where the hell was she?_ Certainly, not in her quarters, which were smaller and considerably less attractive. Not that she was actually complaining.

On almost every level, Kara adored the modest little stateroom she currently shared with Kacey on the 3rd floor deck, mostly because she knew that they'd been extremely lucky just to receive private quarters in the first place, even if they _were_ the smallest personal lodgings on the ship. And, frankly, compared to the seven-foot racks and ten-occupant duty lockers most pilots lived in on Galactica, Kara's accommodations were really something of a luxury – a fact which rarely went unnoticed among certain high-ranking populations within the crew, most of whom typically weren't given similar perks or preferential treatment.

In fact, hostility over Kara's quarters was often only _one _of _many things_ – including Kara's easy-going bond with the Commander – which had initially alienated Kara from many of her shipmates, the few exceptions being several lower-ranking pilots, a handful of female marines, and certain members of the deck crew, including Cally, Seelix, and Chief Tyrol.

Accordingly, Kara's first few months aboard the battlestar had often been dramatic in the worst of ways, especially after she'd somehow managed to single-handedly draw a colossal rift between the various men and women of Galactica, with an extensive list of Kara's more empathetic friends and crewmates, on the one hand, and disapproving _idiots_ like Colonel Tigh, rooted firmly on the other.

Luckily, however, things were constantly improving, and, in recent weeks, most of the tension had somehow begun to dissolve, as Kacey's gorgeous blue eyes, endearing baby-babble, and recent fondness for bear hugs had increasingly dazzled the hearts of the crew.

Maternal biases aside, Kara knew she had the cutest frakking toddler in the Colonies. It simply wasn't a contest; or even an opinion, really. It was a _fact_. And a rather obvious one at that, as far as Kara was concerned.

More importantly, though, it was a fact which had been instrumental in Kara's mental health and general acceptance aboard Galactica, as it was often Kacey's adorable cheeks, and smile, and laughter – much more than anything Kara had ever done, or said, or ultimately even threatened – which had truly garnered the attention, and subsequently the affection, of Kara's rivals, effectively tipping the scales strongly in their favor, and thereby leaving Colonel Tigh and his like-minded cohorts to enjoy their existence as a small – and generally ostracized – minority fraction.

But none of this was really too important _at the moment, _when Kara felt tired, and comfortable, and perfectly content.

Yet, after blinking several times, and settling comfortably back into the covers, a loud banging sound – seemingly coming from the outside corridor – immediately roused Kara for a second time, and subsequently prompted her to survey the surrounding area with keener interest.

Noting the room's elaborate wall-hangings, and large, oversized bed, Kara finally realized that she had actually been sleeping in the visitor's wing, most likely in one of Galactica's five, gorgeously furnished, VIP staterooms, which were usually reserved for distinguished temporary guests, such as prominent military leaders, Colonial diplomats, government officials, or – as was the case in this particular instance – the Commander's son.

At the thought of the Commander, and, by extension, Lee, most of Kara's memories from the previous night suddenly came flooding back; and Kara immediately realized – with an odd combination of wonder, excitement, and regret – that this particular space was _anything_ but an ordinary stateroom.

Rather, it was Lee's room. Or, as it was, Lee's t_emporary_ room, which obviously meant they'd come here last night, _together_, shortly after he'd kissed her.

Looking back, Kara instantly remembered that she'd wasted no time before kissing him back the very second they'd entered the room and had subsequently continued to do so over and over and over again, until Lee had slowly begun to remove her classic black tanks, and she'd quickly undone his formal blue pants, and eventually – without ever intending to really go there – one thing had simply led to another.

And now she was _here _and Lee was nowhere in sight, which – Kara supposed – was sort of ironic, and surprising, and, somehow, remarkably poetic. Because Kara had been the one to leave the first time, so it only seemed fitting that Lee should be the one to do so now.

On the other hand, if Kara focused hard enough, she could vaguely remember Lee mentioning something about Caprica and the Secretary of Education only moments before he'd finally slipped out the door.

More importantly, though, she thought he'd also whispered something about keeping in touch_ for real this time_ and subsequently getting together during leave, because there was absolutely_ no way in hell he was going to let her screw this up twice. _

At the time, Kara had barely been conscious. Instead, she'd been drifting somewhere between reality and sleep, too content to really force her brain to function properly. And so her response had only been simple: she'd smiled, and nodded, and kissed him. And then she'd rolled over and had swiftly fallen back into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, feeling whole, and happy, and entirely perfect for the first time in what almost felt like forever.

Out of everything, Kara's only real regret was her lack of honesty, which wasn't necessarily intentional, but – like so much else – had ultimately happened nonetheless.

Theoretically, Kara knew that this would all be so much easier for everyone – including both Kacey and herself – if she could somehow muster the courage to just be forthright and place all her cards on the table upfront.

Nevertheless, when push had really come to shove, Kara had immediately panicked, and had subsequently allowed herself to become so preoccupied with Lee – and all of his delicious teasing – that she'd ultimately failed to provide even the slightest mention of either Zak or Kacey.

Speaking of Kacey. . .

_Frak_, Kara thought, suddenly remembering she'd promised to pick up her daughter by midnight. _Cally was going to kill her._

Without even thinking, Kara practically sprung out of bed and quickly began gathering her things, silently contemplating the various places Kacey could be.

In a lot of ways, time was different in space. Without actual daylight hours, everything revolved around schedules. And, since Kara usually had flight-training during what would normally be considered _the evening_, Kacey typically went to bed around midnight, which meant that once the clock had struck 0000 hours the previous night, Kacey should have slowly gotten very tired, and very cranky, and very _loud_.

Thus, in an effort to pinpoint Kacey's current location, Kara simply imagined where she might go if the situation were reversed and she had been the one stuck watching someone else's screaming child.

After exploring various scenarios, and thinking through several different possibilities, including the hanger bay and the specialists' bunkroom, Kara resolved to check her own quarters before anything else, just in case Cally had gotten tired of waiting around for Kara and had decided to put Kacey to bed.

After fixing her clothes and slipping her boots on, without so much as completely tying the laces, Kara took off down the corridor _so fast_, she almost appeared to be shot from a launch tube, and, therefore, arrived at her room within minutes.

* * *

Upon entering her quarters, the first thing Kara noticed was _not_ her sleeping daughter, but, in fact, the large – and seemingly unconscious – male figure currently sprawled, haphazardly, across her bunk.

"Gods, Helo," Kara shouted, slamming the hatch behind her. "Can't you take a frakking hint?"

"Frak, Kara," Helo mumbled softly, opening his eyes and standing up from the bed. "Keep your voice down."

"Ok," she said, barely lowering her volume. "Clearly, you can't. . . Now, get your _manipulative, backstabbing, traitorous ass_ the frak out of my room."

"You know, you should really be t_hanking _me," Helo replied, in a tone that plainly said he knew something that she didn't.

In response, Kara raised her eyebrows in a calm, and, evidently, disbelieving manner, but ultimately remained silent, obviously awaiting a better explanation.

"You look surprised," he continued, noting Kara's baffled expression. "But here's the thing. . . while you've been off breaking frat regs, and generally behaving like a _pathetic_, love-sick schoolgirl, I've been _here_. Watching _your_ daughter. For the last. . . three hours now. And, to tell you the truth, it hasn't been much of a picnic."

"You—"

"I mean, don't get me wrong," Helo quickly interrupted, moving closer and waving his arms dramatically. "She's cute and all. . . but, frak Kara, _she can_ _scream_."

"Of course she can, you jackass," Kara whispered fiercely. "She's a _baby. _Not a _machine_."

"Yeah, but this was _loud_. I mean, frakking_ ear-splitting loud_. If I didn't know better, I might even think she missed you."

Sucking up her pride, Kara clenched her jaw and decided to ignore that little quip, if only to save Kacey the extreme displeasure of witnessing a murder in the first degree.

"Where's Cally?" she asked, after finally recovering a rather modest bit of self-control.

"She got called down to the Hanger Bay and no one could find you," Helo explained, his tone still mildly hushed. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I fell asleep."

"_Of course you did_," Helo replied sarcastically. "Where's Apollo?"

"I haven't seen him," Kara said, because – truthfully – she hadn't. Not since she'd really been conscious, anyway.

"Nice try," Helo responded. "Crash saw you sneak off towards the visitor's wing a little after midnight."

At that, Kara was silent. Obviously, Helo knew the truth already, but that still didn't mean she had to humor him by offering a confirmation.

Thus, Helo continued. "You tell him yet?" he asked, obviously referring to Kacey's paternity.

"Not exactly," Kara replied, biting her bottom lip.

"I knew you wouldn't," Helo said, slowly shaking his head.

Just then, a loud, obnoxious ringing-sound began to blare throughout the ship.

Immediately, Helo reached up to cover his ears, and, Kacey, seemingly awoken by the unexpected racket, quickly began to scream.

"You see what I mean?" Helo shouted, as Kara bolted across the room towards Kacey's bed. "She's worse than the godsdamn alarm."

Kara, however, paid Helo absolutely no heed, and instead gently picked up Kacey, who had instantly stood up against the railing of her bed, and stretched her arms out towards her mother, obviously scared by the piercing – and somewhat unfamiliar – noise.

Then, as Kara attempted to sooth her screaming toddler, the alarm softened slightly and was quickly replaced by the firm voice of Lieutenant Felix Gaeta.

"Action Stations. Actions Stations. Set condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill. Repeat. Action Stations. Action Stations. . ."

"Ok," Helo said, moving towards Kara, "What are the odds this isn't a joke?"

"Sixty-forty?" Kara suggested, shrugging her shoulders lightly, as she continued to rub her daughter's tiny back.

"You think we should head down to the hanger bay?"

Before Kara could even process the implications of Helo's question, the steadfast voice of Bill Adama interrupted her thoughts and subsequently offered the_ one_ explanation she'd never anticipated.

"This is the Commander," he said. "Moments ago, this ship received word that a Cylon attack against our home worlds is now underway. We don't know the size or the disposition or the strength of the enemy forces, but all indications point to a massive assault against Colonial Defenses. . ."

"Holy frak," Helo observed, looking at Kara. "I was sure those frakking toasters would have rusted themselves into the junk-yard by now."

In response, Kara merely shook her head, apparently still listening to the Commander.

"As of this moment," he concluded, "we are at war. You've trained for this. You're ready for this. Stand to your duties. Trust your fellow shipmates and we'll all get through this."

"Ok," Helo said. "Now what?"

* * *

By the time Kara and Helo arrived down in the hanger bay, the flight deck was already a sea of endless chaos, with Chief Tyrol positioned firmly at its center, loudly barking orders to the various crewmen, pilots, and specialists within his midst.

"Starbuck!" he roared from across the room, practically seething with rage as his gaze rested firmly on Kara, who was quickly moving towards him with a very frightened-looking Kacey still gathered snugly in her arms. "Get that frakking baby off my flight deck before something runs her over."

"I've got her," Kara argued, adjusting Kacey slightly on her hip. "She's fine."

"I'm not frakking around Lieutenant," the Chief replied gruffly.

Then, without even a moment's hesitation, Tyrol immediately diverted his attention towards Helo and quickly looked him up and down with an obvious sneer of frustration.

"Helo," he barked, looking meaner and considerably more frazzled than ever before. "Where the frak is your flight suit? Get your useless ass in that locker room, put on your gear, and get the frak in that raptor," he continued, pointing towards the ship that Helo always flew with Sharon. "The fighter squadron's three jumps away and they're prepping for enemy contact. We needed you there ten minutes ago."

Nodding, Helo turned towards Kara and shrugged his shoulders apologetically before moving towards the raptor.

"Look," Kara said, approaching the Chief as Helo walked away. "I can help. Just get me a viper."

"And what the frak should I do with your kid while you're up there?" he demanded, sounding stressed and downright exasperated.

"I'll leave her with Sergeant Mathias," Kara suggested, quickly glancing around in search of the female marine in question. "Just give me a second."

After eyeing Kara skeptically for several moments, the Chief let out a frustrated breath and began to shake his head.

"You want to help?" he asked, stepping closer and pointing fiercely towards the door. "Get your ass up to CIC and convince the XO to return you to flight status."

_Frak, _Kara thought. She'd forgotten all about that. . .

**A/N: Thanks again to all of you reviewers. I really love to hear your feedback! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Legacy**

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is an AU Lee/Kara story. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing and am not making a profit from this story. **

**Chapter 7: The Spoils of War**

After seven grueling days of combat, five sleepless nights, and almost twenty-one successive CAP rotations, Kara Thrace had never felt more wretched.

In short, she was stressed; and she was sweaty; and she was starving; not to mention, drowsy, exhausted, and massively annoyed.

In a _word_, she was miserable.

And, in a_ sentence_, Kara Thrace was _so_ incensed, she had half a mind to personally kill every godsdamn frakking Cylon this side of the Milky Way.

For the most part, though, her stronger, more dominant half, just wanted to eat, and sleep, and shower. . . And, hopefully, reacquaint herself with Lee Adama's bed at some point in between the three. Or – now that Kara really thought about it – maybe that'd be better left 'till after. . .

After the shower, that is. And maybe even after the food. . .

Because, really, Kara couldn't even _remember_ the last time she'd ever been this hungry. . .or irritable. . . or erratic, for that matter.

The truth was, she'd been distracted since Lee had first appeared aboard Galactica. But all of that initial stress and absentmindedness had basically _tripled_ with the onset of the Cylon attacks. And then _quadrupled_ since the incident with the Olympic Carrier.

After all, blowing up _toasters _was one thing, especially those of the ancient chrome-drone variety. But _consciously _ murdering civilians, even in the name of seeking _greater good_. . .well,_ that_ was something else entirely.

Somehow, though, she'd found the strength – or perhaps the weakness – to pull the trigger nonetheless, and, now – a full_ day and half_ after the fact – Kara was stuck paying the price.

Worse still, Lee had been the one to give the order, and, thus, had suffered the brunt of blow, and the blame, and the guilt, so much so, in fact, that Kara had barely seen him _twice _in the last 36 hours combined, and, during that time, Galactica's rumor-mill had somehow snowballed massively out of control, relentlessly spinning exaggerated tales of Lee and Kara's epic, budding, or – alternatively – star-crossed romance. And, for the most part, Kara had Crash – and his enormous frakking mouth – to thank for that.

Under normal circumstances, Kara usually didn't give a frak what people thought, or said, or wanted, but – _this time_ – she really had something to lose. Because, somehow – in the midst of all the chaos and the killing – Kara still hadn't managed to tell Lee he had a daughter. And, more importantly, she knew that – sooner or later – someone would finally put two and two together, and, frankly, the absolute last thing Kara needed was Lee finding out the truth from someone other than herself.

On a good day, he'd probably go ballistic, at the very least.

Fortunately, however, Lee's status as both a senior officer and the Commander's son, as well as his mounting responsibilities as CAG, ultimately prevented him from spending too much time with any of the younger pilots, most of whom knew better than to openly mock their Captain, especially one as brooding and aloof as Lee initially appeared to everyone who wasn't Kara Thrace.

But Kara, on the other hand, was completely _fair game_.

Thus, while _she_ had quickly gotten wind of the gossip regarding her various romantic interludes with the _heroic Lee Adama_, Lee, himself, remained surprisingly oblivious.

And, then – lastly, _most importantly_ – there'd been Helo, whose _idiotic_ personal sacrifice for Dr. Baltar was probably the most distressful of Kara's various personal woes, if only because – without him – Kara literally had no one left to _really_ talk to about this giant mess with Lee; except for maybe Kacey, but – at the moment – she could barely speak a sentence.

Obviously, Kara had other friends aboard Galactica — like Racetrack, and Sharon, and Cally. But none of them were really people she could open up to. . . not unless she was trash talking over-hyped pyramid teams, insulting Colonel Tigh, or betting high stakes at Triad.

Helo had been different. He was her rock, her conscience, and – despite his existence as a perennial _smart-ass_ – her _absolute_ moral center. So, even though Kara sometimes hated him for sticking his stupid nose in issues, and places, where he had no business getting involved, she knew that it was genuine _concern_ – rather than mere amusement or hostility – which had always been his underlying motivation.

At some point, it had also occurred to Kara that it was selfish – and perhaps even somewhat despicable – for her to think of Helo's decision to remain on Caprica in terms of the personal inconvenience it meant for _her_, when, in reality, his health and safety were at stake.

But – no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise – Kara couldn't help but feel abandoned, and just the slightest bit affronted, by Karl's desertion, and, thus, felt even guiltier about the range of emotions she was currently feeling.

In sum, the past seven days had easily been the worst of Kara's life, with her one and only saving grace being Lexi, the young civilian refugee who had consented to act as Kacey's full-time sitter, while Kara was stuck in her cockpit, shooting down raiders and blowing up basestars.

In certain ways, Kara hated the fact that she'd needed to hire a sitter. After all, no matter how much she may have played down her maternal feelings in the past, Kara honestly adored every godsdamn solitary moment she spent with her adorable blonde baby, and was genuinely disappointed to lose even a single second of that precious time.

But this was war, which meant that – for the first time in centuries – the human race was in danger of extinction.

And – somehow – that _one_, tiny little fact changed everything.

That is, with the fate of humanity hanging in the balance, Kara had a responsibility to honor her oath and stand to her duties, regardless of her own individual desires, attachments, or personal hardships. Because spending time with Kacey was _important_, but none of that would matter _in the slightest_ if Kacey never made it past her second birthday.

So, if Kara had to make some sacrifices to ensure her daughter's safety, then she would do it, even if that meant enduring extra suffering _herself_.

Though, now that thoughts of suffering were out there, Kara decided that – in all fairness – the hunger she was currently experiencing probably should have qualified as such.

And, thus – with starvation weighing strongly on her mind – Kara quickly headed for the dining room.

* * *

After finishing the first _real_ meal he'd had in days, Lee Adama breathed a heavy sigh and placed his forehead on the table.

In so many ways, his visit to Galactica had become the very antithesis of everything he'd been expecting.

Since the onset of the Cylon attacks, the dynamic between Lee and the Commander had taken several turns for the better. But – for the most part – there was still a ways to go. And Lee was relatively certain that the journey ahead would be long and remarkably arduous, filled with all the minor bumps and pesky complications that typically accompany any true attempt at familial reconciliation.

And then there was Kara Thrace.

Truthfully, he'd been avoiding her.

Hell, he'd been avoiding everyone these past few days; but Kara, more than others, especially since she'd risked her life to save him from death or Cylon capture by recklessly slamming her viper into his and then he'd kindly returned the favor by ordering her to shoot down a 2,000-person civilian vessel against her various protests and obvious moral reservations.

At the time, he'd thought they didn't have a choice. In all likelihood, the Olympic Carrier had been compromised – and the civilians killed or captured – long before its belated return to the fleet.

In hindsight, Lee didn't necessarily regret his decision, nor did he believe that he'd been wrong to give the order. But none of that seemed to quell his sense of guilt or even the very _real _reality that Kara had been reluctant to pull the trigger, and had, ultimately, only done so as a result of Lee's command.

_Gods_, Lee thought with a groan. _All this stupid remorse was making his head hurt. . ._

He also hadn't slept in days, so that clearly could have been the cause as well. . .

Yet, either way, Lee knew he needed rest and, therefore, stood up and quickly set-off towards the bulkhead.

Before reaching it, however, Lee was intercepted by a young marine, awkwardly clutching a very familiar-looking blue-eyed toddler, whom Lee hadn't seen in nearly seven days.

"Captain Adama?" he asked, seemingly unsure of Lee's identity.

"Yeah," Lee said, briefly glancing down at Kacey's small and tear-streaked face. "Is there a problem?"

"No, Sir," the marine replied stiffly, holding up Kacey as far from his chest as he possible could. "But I've been instructed to leave this with you."

"With _me_?" Lee repeated, sounding skeptical and more than a little surprised. "You sure about that?"

"Yes, Sir," he said, moving closer, apparently hoping his increasing proximity might somehow encourage Lee to take the child.

"You know, I'm really kind of busy at the moment. . ."

"I'm sorry, Sir. I'm under orders."

"Orders from whom?" Lee asked, finally reaching out and gently taking Kacey from the outstretched hands of the marine.

"Your father, Sir. Her sitter's just been taken down to sickbay with a head injury and the Commander's asked me to leave her with you."

"Sickbay?" Lee replied, quickly eyeing the blonde-haired child, who had somehow managed to burrow her face into the side his chest. "What happened?"

"She received a concussion during our last enemy contact. We think she may have slipped and hit her head when Galactica took fire."

"Gods," Lee said. "What happened to Kacey?"

"Nothing, Sir. I believe she was sleeping."

"She looks like she's been crying," Lee observed, noting her blotchy face, unhappy expression, and sniffling, runny nose.

"Yes, Sir," replied the marine, nodding his head in ascent. "We had to wake her up before bringing her down here. She, ah. . . wasn't too happy about it."

"Alight," Lee said. "You're free to go."

"Thank you, Sir. Good luck."

"Yeah," Lee mumbled sarcastically. "_Thanks a lot_."

Sighing heavily, Lee walked briskly towards the buffet and grabbed a small pile of napkins before glancing down at a rather crabby-looking Kacey and shaking his head. _So much for getting some sleep._

"Come on, Kace," he finally said, wiping her nose with one of the napkins. "Let's figure out who the heck you belong to."

* * *

Upon entering the mess hall, the absolute last thing Kara expected to find was Lee – heading directly towards her – carrying a very tired and seemingly temperamental toddler, dressed in pint-sized military digs.

Realizing Lee had already seen her, Kara quickly swore under her breath and silently prayed that Kacey wouldn't give her away.

Thus, as Lee approached, Kara merely smiled and nodded towards her daughter.

"Babysitting?" she asked, cleverly masking her discomfort in amusement and overzealous mirth.

"Sort of," Lee explained, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Whoever was watching her ended up having to go down to sickbay. I'm just a replacement."

"Why?" Kara questioned, panicking slightly. "What Happened?"

"I guess she hit her head when one of the errant nukes hit during the last attack."

"And you were there?" Kara asked, looking down at Kacey, who immediately stretched her hands out towards her mother and started babbling something unintelligible.

"No," Lee corrected, as he readjusted Kacey in his arms. "_I was here_. But my manipulative father suggested I step in and take her place."

"Manipulative?" Kara repeated, making a mental note to _kill_ the Commander, who suddenly seemed to be proving himself even more of a nuisance than Helo. "What makes you say that?"

"Well," Lee said, "I can't shake the feeling that he might be trying to tell me something."

"Like what?" Kara asked, quickly looking back at Lee.

"I don't know, maybe with the end of the Colonies and so many families destroyed. . . Well, he knows I've never wanted children. . ." At that, Kara visibly flinched. ". . . And – I could be wrong here – but it seems like he might be trying to convince me otherwise."

"Interesting theory," Kara said flatly.

"Is it crazy to think he might want a grandkid?"

"No," Kara replied, wondering, once again, just how many _specifics_ the Commander's DNA test had actually revealed. Zak obviously hadn't been a paternal match. But had the test also been capable of indicating familial relations of a _differen_t kind? Kara honestly couldn't be certain. "Anything's _possible. . ._"

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly working out," Lee admitted, vainly attempting to calm the fidgeting child still resting against him. "She looks completely miserable." Then, after a short silence, a horrified expression seemed to cross over Lee's features. "Do you think. . ." he said, wrinkling his nose as though suddenly struck with horror. "Do you think she. . . uh. . . needs to be _changed_?"

Without really meaning to, Kara instantly burst out laughing. The look on Lee's face was utterly priceless.

"I think she's probably tired."

Almost immediately, Lee's features relaxed and his posture loosened.

"Here," Kara continued, deciding that perhaps she should end this before Kacey began relentlessly blurting out the _M-word_. "Why don't you give her to me? You're clearly out of your element."

For an instant, Lee seemed unsure. "You think we should find her mother?"

In reality, finding Kacey's mother was something Lee had been thinking about for a while now. She was – or had been – Zak's fiancé, after all. And, if she had been important to Zak, Lee knew that – at the very least – a meeting was in order.

Yet, after everything that had happened with the Cylons, and Kara, and his new responsibilities as CAG, Lee simply hadn't found the time to launch an investigation regarding her identity just yet. In fact, he'd almost forgotten the matter completely.

And, if he was perfectly honest, the last thing he really wanted to do at this particular junction in time was start up a long, emotional _chat_ with his deceased brother's ex-girlfriend.

Luckily, however, Kara saved him the trouble.

"Yeah," she said, stepping forward. "But I can take her. Besides, you're kind of a mess. You might want to consider a nap."

Somewhat reluctantly, Lee nodded and moved to hand off Kacey, who instantly launched herself at Kara and quickly wrapped her arms around her mother's neck.

"I think she likes you."

"I can't imagine why," Kara replied with a grin. "I think I still smell like Tylium and viper exhaust fumes."

"Well, maybe she pities you," Lee commented matter-of-factly. "Why do you think _I_ stick around?"

"Hey," Kara said, laughing. "Whatever works."

"Look, are you sure you're, Ok?" Lee asked, once Kacey was firmly settled in Kara's arms. "Because I could. . ."

"Lee," Kara immediately interrupted. "It's fine. I've got her. _Go get some sleep._"

After looking back and fourth between Kara and a surprisingly calm and comfortable Kacey, Lee finally nodded. Maybe he _was _just bad with children, after all. _Unless_. . . _No_, Lee thought. _That simply couldn't be right._

"Yeah," he said. "I will."

"Wait," Kara added quickly, as Lee began to slowly turn away. "We should talk later."

"Yeah," Lee agreed, curiously looking Kara straight in the eye. "_We should_."

From what Kara could tell, Lee obviously believed she wanted to talk about their so-called _relationship_ and all the lovely things they'd done together, in the darkness of his stateroom.

Now, however – in the middle of a public mess hall, with an exhausted Kacey practically sleeping in her arms – was certainly _not_ the time to tell him otherwise.

"Later then?" she asked.

"Later," Lee said, turning again and continuing down the corridor.

By the time he looked back, both Kara and Kacey were gone.

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone who's been reviewing. You guys rock. Seriously. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Legacy**

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is an AU Lee/Kara story. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing and am not making a profit from this story.**

**Chapter 8: House of Cards**

Six days ago, when Kara Thrace told Lee Adama they'd needed to "talk," she'd sincerely intended to come clean about Kacey. Honest to Gods, she had. . . Only, since then, she hadn't told him a word. Literally, not a single godsdamn frakking word. And both the Cylons and Tom Zarek were absolutely to blame.

Because, really, it all started with the water. . .

That is, around four hours after they'd last met in the mess hall, someone – or _something_ – had blown a giant gaping hole in one of Galactica's largest supply tanks, effectively air-locking most of their water, and, consequently, placing everyone on immediate emergency rations.

Thus, with drinking water severely limited and minimal opportunities for proper bathing, chaos had shortly ensued in various corners of the fleet, leaving the men and women of Galactica to pull in the reigns and clean up the mess.

And that was just the beginning.

Soon afterwards, Lee was appointed Laura Roslin's Personal Military Advisor – a position which was immediately accompanied by a seemingly endless list of additional duties, commitments, and political responsibilities – and thereby seemed to land himself, knee-deep, in diplomatic confrontations and agendas, including a rather disastrous hostage situation aboard the Astral Queen, which had completely endangered the lives of numerous crewmen and was ultimately engineered by none other than the eloquent – and inscrutable – Tom Zerak, Sagittaron's most infamous terrorist.

Then, just when Kara had finally come to believe that all of the dust had really begun to settle, a rocket-propelled communications drone had suddenly exploded in the hanger bay shortly following Flat Top's 1,000th flight deck landing, sending him – and countless other pilots – rolling away on stretchers with various injuries and deadly physical traumas.

And now. . . Well, _now_, everyone who'd been late to arrive on the flight deck, as well as those who'd merely been lucky enough to walk away from the explosion with all of their limbs intact, were currently crammed – rather unceremoniously – into Cottle's tiny, and already-too-crowded, sickbay, paying respects and saying final goodbyes to all of their less fortunate friends and fellow comrades.

* * *

"Here," Flat top said, reaching to the left side of his cot and slowly lifting the F-16 he'd made for Kacey the night of Galactica's decommissioning. "I had Skulls bring it from the bunkroom in case you changed your mind." As he spoke, Kara noticed a pained expression on Flat Top's face. Each word was low, protracted, and delayed — sometimes excessively so. And his voice was hoarse and scratchy. "I painted some extra details on the wings the other night. I thought maybe she'd like it better if it looked slightly more realistic."

"You didn't have to do that," Kara replied, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "She would have loved it either way – even without the paint. I should have taken it the first time. . . But Helo and Crash. . ." Slowly, Kara drew in a breath. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have let them get in my head."

Several feet behind her, Lee scrunched his eyebrows in confusion and quickly turned towards Racetrack.

"What's with the airplane?" he whispered, intentionally muting his speech so that only she could hear.

"Flat Top made it for Kara's daughter a couple weeks ago down in the rec room. Apparently, it's some sort of classic. . ."

"Time out," Lee said, grabbing hold of Racetrack's wrist and all but dragging her across the room.

Almost instantly, Racetrack stepped away from her CAG and forcefully jerked her hand back.

"Frak, Apollo, what the—?"

"Sorry" Lee said. "But you're going to have to repeat that."

"Repeat what?" Racetrack asked, gently rubbing her wrist with her opposite hand.

"When you were describing the airplane Flat Top gave Kara, I thought that. . . Well, I could have sworn you said he made it for _her daughter_."

"Well, yeah," Racetrack clarified, looking back and fourth between Kara and Lee. "That's what happened." Noting Lee's shocked expression, and pale, ashen face, Racetrack slowly tilted her head in confusion and threw her CAG a questioning glance. "Wait a minute. . ." she continued, apparently putting two and two together. "Don't tell me you didn't know."

"Didn't know _what?_" Lee asked, resisting the urge to simply shake the information out of her.

"Gods, Apollo, who did you think _she_ was?"

"Who did I think _who_ was?"Lee repeated, moving closer and clenching his jaw in frustration.

"The cute little blonde you were toting around the mess hall last week. . . blue eyes, round cheeks. . .ring any bells?"

"You mean Kacey?" Lee asked, the pieces suddenly sliding in place.

"Well, do you see any other blonde two-year-olds running around Galactica?"

"Well, no," Lee said. "But I didn't. . . Kara never. . . She never told me she was _hers!_"

"Does it really make a difference? I mean, you wouldn't leave her just because she has a kid. . ."

"Leave her?" Lee repeated, incredulous. "We're not even officially_ together!"_

"Gods, you're such a guy," Racetrack stated with a laugh. "To be honest, though, I never pegged you as a commitment-phobe."

"_A what?_" he questioned, plainly as baffled as ever.

"A _commitment-phobe_. . . Someone who's, uh, _scared to commit_."

"I'm not," Lee argued, clearly somewhat perturbed and apparently slightly offended. "How do you even know about that in the first place?"

"You mean about you and Kara?" Racetrack prodded, as Lee lifted his head in agreement. "Oh, come on, Apollo," Racetrack said with a laugh. "Everyone knows you're frakking!"

"_Everyone?" _he asked, obviously quite embarrassed by the prospect in question.

"Everyone," Racetrack confirmed_. _

"_Great_," Lee replied, rolling his eyes. "So, uh, you don't – by any chance – know who Kacey's father is. . . Do you?"

In all honestly, though, Lee was completely dreading the answer. Because, truthfully, he had absolutely no idea whether or not he really wanted the added responsibility of raising a child, especially now that the worlds had ended. Then again, if there was one thing he'd learned from spending so much time with Laura Roslin, it was that _life_ – and new, uncorrupted, life, in particular – was truly the most precious of nature's various gifts. And, really, who was Lee to turn his back on that?

Briefly, Racetrack shrugged her shoulders. "Some one-night-stand she met on Caprica a few years back. I don't really know the details." After glancing up at Lee Adama's gobsmacked face, Racetrack stopped and slowly bit her lip, as though suddenly re-evaluating her decision to take part in this discussion. "Look," she said, continuing, "Maybe you should be having this conversation with Kara. To be honest, I'd really rather not get in the middle. But – for the record – if Starbuck didn't tell you upfront, then I'm sure she had a reason."

"_I'm sure she did_," Lee said sarcastically, as Racetrack glanced over towards Flat Top's cot, where he was clearly still speaking to Kara in hushed and broken words. Obviously, Racetrack believed their conversation was over. But Lee – stubborn as ever – seemed to have other ideas. "How old did you say she was?"

"Huh?" Racetrack replied, slowly diverting her attention back from Flat Top and onto Lee once more.

"Kacey," Lee repeated. "You said she's two."

"Yeah," Racetrack replied. "Well, almost. I think she's twenty-one months."

_Now, that, _Lee thought_, _as he calculated numbers in his head,_ was certainly suspicious._ Injured pilots and horrendous timing aside, Lee was getting some answers, and, gods help him, he was getting them now. This was simply too important to wait.

"Excuse me," Lee said, his fists clenching as he moved towards Kara, who was now resting on the edge of Flat Top's bed, and politely asked if he could "borrow Starbuck," before quickly escorting her out into the empty hall.

* * *

"_Two weeks, _Kara."

"Ok," Kara replied, raising an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"I've been on this ship for _two weeks_ _now_ and I have to find out – _from Racetrack_ – that you have a daughter. A –_ two-year-old – _daughter."

"Ok, first of all, she's 21 months."

"Like I give a frak about semantics, Kara." For a long moment, nobody moved. "Just tell me. . ." Lee finally continued, as he tried to catch his breath. "Just. . . Well, she's _mine, isn't she?_"

"_No,_ _Lee_," Kara quickly responded with an angry look. "I slept with the whole godsdamn squadron." After a short pause, during which neither party so much as blinked an eyelid, Kara let out an exasperated grunt and briefly rolled her eyes. "Of course she's yours, you frakking moron."

"This isn't exactly the time for jokes, Kara. How could you keep—?"

"Look, I know, ok? I was going to tell you. . . "

"When?" Lee shouted. "When she's eight?"

"No," Kara answered flatly. "I tried to tell you last week. . . But. . ."

"Last week?" Lee repeated. "_Last week_ you looked me in the eye and said she wasn't yours."

"I never said that," Kara objected, shaking her head. "You just assumed because—"

"That's the biggest load of bullshit I think I've ever heard!" Lee exploded, his hand coming within inches of Kara's face. "I asked if we should find her mother and you—"

"_And I told you to give her to me!_ I never said she wasn't mine."

"Yeah? You never said she _was_, either!"

"Well, it's not like you _asked_!"

"Godsdammit, Kara. I shouldn't have to!"

Deep down, Kara knew he was right. He'd been right from the beginning. But it wasn't his words that finally broke her. It was the look of utter disgust and disappointment on his face. . .The same look she'd often seen reflected in her mother's eyes.

"I swear, Lee, I was going to tell you."

"Well, that obviously went as planned. . ."

"Look, I wanted to, ok? Gods, I wanted to tell you the day I found out. But I didn't even know who you were until the other night and things kept getting in the way. . ."

"That's your excuse?" Lee roared._ "Things kept getting in the way?"_

"It's the end of the frakking worlds, Lee. Forgive me if I've been slightly distracted. Given the circumstances, I'd think that maybe you could try and be a little understanding."

"Gods, Kara, we're not talking about _a puppy_ here. How can you not see how big this is?"

"_I can_," Kara shouted. "That's _the whole point_, you stupid frakker. It's not really something I wanted to slip in between CAP rotations and blowing up Cylons. The only time I've really even heard your voice lately is through stupid comm chatter, which isn't exactly ideal for telling your CAG he has a daughter who he's never even met."

"Actually, I've met her twice now, Kara."

"Thanks, _genius_, I can count. It was just a frakking hypothetical!"

"Where is she?"

"With Lexi in my room."

"Really?" Lee asked, sounding more sarcastic than ever before. "That's great. _W__ho the frak is Lexi_?"

Before responding, Kara made an exaggerated show of rolling her eyes. "One of the teenagers Boomer rescued from Caprica. She watches her while I'm on duty."

"You left our toddler with a 12-year-old?"

"No, _Lee_, stop being an idiot," Kara retorted, her glare intensifying as she spoke. "I left her with a very _mature_, very _responsible_, very _experienced _18-year old sitter, who happens to be a certified EMT and practically raised her baby brother before he was killed in the attacks. She was in Delphi with her father when it happened. And I think she probably knows more about children than both you and I combined."

"She's still just a child, Kara."

"You know," Kara replied, "From where I'm standing, you're the one acting like a five-year-old. Kacey's perfectly safe. I swear to Gods, Lee, she's in good hands."

"I want to see her."

"I know. And, in a few hours, after Flat Top—"

"Now, Kara."

"Look, I get it," Kara said, straining her head in the direction of Flat Top's cot. "But Cottle thinks we'll probably lose him sometime in the night and I promised I'd be here."

"You can come back later."

"Look, Lee. You want to see her. I get that. And, believe me, you have every right. . ."

"Of course I frakking want to see her. You just told me she's my _daughter!_ Do you have any idea how that feels?"

"No," Kara explained, sympathy now clearly evident both on her face and in her tone. "And you're right, ok? I'm a screw up. But Flat Top's _dying_ in there! Literally, _dying_. And, it's like you said, you've met her _twice_ already. . ."

"That's not the same thing," Lee countered, firmly gritting his teeth. "That was before I knew she was _mine_. Back then. . . Back then she was just some kid my father asked me to. . ." For a long moment, Lee paused. "Does my father know about this?"

"I don't know," Kara replied, stepping back.

"What do you mean_ you don't know?_"

"Well, I didn't tell him, if that's what you're insinuating. . ."

"But he knows," Lee finished._ It wasn't a question._

"He might," Kara said. "I'm really not—"

"Gods, Kara, does_ everybody_ know but me?"

"No," Kara explained. "Just the commander. . . and, well. . . and Helo."

"_That's great_, _Kara._"

"Look, he just guessed, ok? He was there when I figured it out!"

"When you figured out you were pregnant?"

"No," Kara corrected. "When I figured out who you _really_ were." For an instant, it occurred to Kara that this could be the perfect opportunity to bring up Zak. Ultimately, though, she realized it would probably be smarter not to push Lee's buttons any further. He was close enough to the edge as it was. And Kara knew from experience that a genuinely pissed off Lee was not someone she particularly wanted to mess with. At least, not after everything else that had already happened that week.

Just then, Doc Cottle appeared in the doorway and briefly signaled for Kara to come back inside. _Obviously, something was wrong._ "Look," she said, returning her gaze back to Lee. "I owe you an explanation. And I'm sure you have questions. But now isn't the time, and, the way I see it, you basically have two options: you can ignore the thirteen pilots dying in there and go to my room and see Kacey without me, or you can make yourself useful and start acting like a proper CAG. The ball's in your court. I'm going inside."

"I'll meet you in there," Lee said. "First, I think it's time I pay my father a visit."


	9. Chapter 9

**Legacy**

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is an AU Lee/Kara story. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing and am not making a profit from this story. **

**Chapter 9: Sins of the Father, Sins of the Son**

Less than seven minutes had passed since his argument with Kara in the hallway, and, _already_, Lee Adama's thoughts were reeling. In every sense imaginable, Lee felt ambushed, shell-shocked, and betrayed. . . because, apparently, Kara had been spinning lies – and omitting truths – for the better part of fourteen days now, even as they'd talked, and flirted, and subsequently shared a bed _on more than one occasion._ And _that_ – more than anything else – was the part that really got him.

Because, frankly, it was _one thing_ for Kara not to tell _her CAG_ she was a mother. And, if Lee were only _that _– only the Commander of her Air Group and her direct superior officer – well, maybe _then _he'd even understand her reluctance to admit that he was Kacey's father. But it was something else entirely to hide the truth from someone who mattered on a personal – rather than professional – scale. And, in reality, Lee was never _just_ her CAG, or j_ust_ her superior officer, or even just some random guy she'd slept with once on some stupid, reckless whim.

Because, even though Lee had never been big on titles, which – in his experience – often seemed to come with yards of complications, Lee knew the bond he shared with Kara was truly something special. . .and that wasn't _just because_ they'd somehow managed to survive a multi-planet genocide. So, even if he lacked the right – or the need – to officially call her _his girlfriend_, Lee's relationship with Kara still blatantly consisted of the deepest emotional connection that Lee had ever felt.

And, _really, _with that small fact in mind, there was simply no excuse for Kara's lies, even if Lee_ had_ – on occasion – been fairly difficult to locate.

Issues like children and paternity just weren't things one frakked around with or simply set aside 'till more convenient times, especially considering the current circumstances and the very _real_ reality that each and every moment could easily become their very last.

Thus – in spite of all these stupid obstacles and messy, frakked up complications – Lee told himself he really should have known the truth much sooner. Maybe not on instinct. And maybe not at first. But – if he'd been paying any semblance of real attention – Lee was certain that the puzzle should have been completed well before this morning.

After all, there had certainly been signs along this winding road of self-discovery and new beginnings. Kara's constant restlessness, for one. And her sudden tendency to disappear halfway through the night undoubtedly made two.

Then, there was the tiny – almost unnoticeable – scar resting horizontally along her lower abdomen, which, Lee was certain, hadn't always been there. Originally, he'd thought almost nothing of it, particularly since the scar itself was small and thin and straight, and – as far as Lee had known – probably could have been caused by any number of strange and extraneous factors. But now. . . Well, now that Lee finally understood the truth about Kacey, that same little scar promptly appeared to take on worlds of new significance and – somewhere in the depths of Lee's consciousness – quickly began to feel more and more like obvious proof of a C-section.

Of course, there'd been other clues as well. Little things. Like the ease with which Kara had held – and calmed – the crying child on her hip, almost as though she'd already enacted this same miraculous feat over and over, thousands of times before. Or the subtle way that Kacey smiled when Kara came within her line of vision.

Accordingly, while Lee was ultimately furious at Kara for neglecting any mention of their daughter, part of him was truly happy at the news; because – for all his anger and hostility – Lee realized now that he had secretly been jealous of that subtle little smile Kacey had reserved for Kara and subsequently longed for her to look towards _him_ with that same elated grin.

Yet, regardless of Lee's current feelings towards Kacey, or his personal issues with Kara, there was one person with whom Lee was even more irate, and, naturally, it was the Commander.

Ironically, the last time Lee had paused outside his father's office-door like this, he'd been seeking forgiveness and reconciliation after fourteen months of anger, enmity, and silence. Now, however, Lee's goal was confrontation. And – one way or another – he was getting to the truth, even if that meant the dissolution of their recent, two-week-old, armistice.

So, after drawing in a final breath and hesitating only slightly, Lee quietly opened the door and mentally braced himself for a fight. Not that he actually intended for things to get ugly. After all, this would certainly be easier – for everyone – if the Commander simply answered his questions without putting up too much resistance or outright lying to Lee's face.

Though, if – by chance – this little conversation did, _somehow,_ come to blows. . . Well, that would be unfortunate. But Lee was ready – both mentally and physically – and that was simple fact.

* * *

Commander William Adama was intently logging the details of Galactica's most recent flight deck crisis when his attention was instantly drawn towards the bulkhead, as someone slowly entered the threshold and grimly held his gaze.

"Lee," Bill said, acknowledging his son with a nod. "I'm glad you're here." Placing his pen on the table in front of him, Bill quickly stood up from his chair and briskly moved towards the opposite side of the room. "I need a favor."

"_A favor,_" Lee repeated sarcastically. "_That's a good one._" Rolling his eyes, Lee instantly stepped inside the room and allowed the hatch the slam behind him, startling his father and inadvertently flinching at resulting _Clang._ "_Let me guess_. . ." he added with a glare, calmly moving towards the center of the office and slowly leaning back against Bill's desk. "Kacey needs a sitter and – _apparently_ – I'm still the only frakking pilot on Galactica who doesn't deserve more than 15 seconds of leisure."

_All right_, Bill thought. _Admittedly_, _he probably deserved that._

After all, it'd merely been a coincidence the first time that Bill had asked – _ok,_ _ordered_ – Lee to spend some time with Kacey. He'd been needed down in CIC, and, by chance, Lee _just happened_ to appear inside his office with nothing to do for the next two hours, except twiddle his thumbs in the mess hall and maybe fake a smile for some photo-ops. Thus, Lee had seemed the obvious choice for a sitter, even without considering some of the thornier reasons why such an arrangement was truly the best – and most appropriate – solution.

Yet, the second time. . .well, the second time was more suspicious. . . and certainly more inappropriate, considering the circumstances. Because – even though Kacey had truly needed a sitter – the fact remained that Lee was Galactica's CAG and there was simply no logical reason why the Commander of the Air Group should have ever been asked to take on the added responsibility of watching someone else's child, particularly in the midst of a brutal and highly desperate war.

In fact, the request was truly so outrageous that Bill had been relatively shocked to learn that Lee had yet to file a formal complaint and subsequently seemed to realize that it was only a matter of time before Lee's anger finally boiled over in a nasty fit of rage, frustration, and resentment.

Consequently, when the Commander finally addressed his fuming son, he quickly adopted a somber expression and, thus, made every effort to keep his CAG from losing his wits and blowing a gasket in the middle of a military crisis.

"Look," he replied in a soothing and highly empathetic voice. "I know it's been a rough couple of weeks." As he spoke, Bill casually poured himself a glass of chilled ambrosia and then held one out towards Lee, who seemed to hesitate at first, but then reluctantly accepted. "The pressure seems to be getting to everyone," he continued, taking a small sip and sighing as the liquid slowly burned his throat. "But – this time – I'm not asking you to baby-sit."

"Ok," Lee said. "I'll bite. What do you want me to do?" His tone was patronizing and annoyed. In all honesty, Lee had no intention of following through with the favor – if nothing else, just for the sake of revenge. But, really, what was the harm in asking?

"After this latest fiasco on the flight deck, we're running short on pilots, which means we're going to need some replacements."

"Makes sense," Lee said, nodding his head in agreement. "I'm guessing you want me to find some recruits."

"Actually, I've asked Lieutenant Gaeta to check our passenger manifests and it seems he's already found ten potential nuggets, ready and waiting for the commencement of Level I, Viper training."

"So, then, what's the problem?" Lee asked, quickly draining the contents of his glass in one emotionless swig.

"The problem is: I need an instructor."

"Look," Lee said, standing up and moving towards his father's open bottle of ambrosia. "May I?" he asked with a grin, before acknowledging his father's nod and pouring himself a second drink. "I know that I'm your CAG, but I'm certainly not qualified for flight instruction and – to be honest – I don't even think I'd know where to start. Besides, last I checked, there were more than 40,000 people in the fleet, so, frankly, I think we're bound to find _someone_ with a little more experience."

"We already have," the Commander interjected with an expressionless stare. ". . .which is why I need you to convince Lieutenant Thrace to accept the position. She flat-out refused my official request this morning – without any explanation whatsoever – and it'd be helpful if you could change her mind."

"_Lieutenant Thrace,_" Lee repeated slowly. "_How ironic._" After receiving a strange glance from the Commander, Lee seemed to shake his head and then continued. "You know, I actually had a few questions about Kara, myself. I was hoping you could help."

"Maybe another time, Son. For the moment, this really needs to take priority if we want to get those pilots in the air before our next encounter with the Cylons."

"Really?" Lee asked. "That's funny. Because – well, after thinking it through – I actually don't think I'll have time to speak with the Lieutenant today. After all, I do have rotations to plan and sleep to catch up on. . . not to mention triple CAPs now that our numbers are down. Why don't you check back in a week or so. Maybe the Cylons will have given up by then and I'll have some extra time to _do your frakking job for you_."

"This isn't a friendly request, Lee."

"And, with respect, _Sir_, these are only simple questions. Would it really kill you to give me some answers?"

"Alright," Bill said. "Let's here it. What's on your mind?"

"Well," Lee began, "She's been here. . . what? A year now?"

"Almost fourteen months," Bill corrected with an endearing smile. "Sometimes, though, I forget it's really been that long."

"_Right_," Lee said. "_That's interesting_. Because, the thing is. . . Something's happened recently that's sort of got me thinking. . ." For an instant, Lee noticed a curious expression cross his father's face. Yet, rather than acknowledging such observations, Lee simply charged ahead, unfazed. "So, now, what I'm wondering is: Exactly how much of that time. . . and I'm talking specifics here. . . exactly how much of that time have you known that Kacey was _mine_?"

"Yours?" The Commander repeated, looking genuinely startled. "Well, if that's the case, then I suppose congratulations are in order."

"You can cut the crap, ok? You've always been a shitty liar. And you really don't need to pretend that you're surprised. I _know_ you knew already. I'm just not exactly sure that I know _how_."

"Unfortunately, Lee, I'm afraid that you're mistaken."

"No!" Lee retorted with an angry glare. "Don't even frakking try and deny it. You've been dropping hints all week. And, I don't know why, but Kara seems to think you know as well."

"Yes," the Commander agreed. "Well, _that_, I can probably explain. . ."

"Yeah?" Lee asked. "Go ahead, then. I have no intention of standing in your way."

"I just wish you'd try and understand that this is all a lot more complicated than I think you realize. . ."

"Look," Lee said. "Spare me the lecture and just cut to the point, ok?"

Suddenly, the Commander's face appeared to harden significantly. "You may be my son, Lee, but you'd be wise to remember your place. I'm still your father, regardless of how much you proclaim to hate me. And, more importantly, _Captain_, this is still _my ship_. So unless you want to spend the afternoon shackled to a bunk-bed in the brig, I suggest you take a deep breath and recover your senses."

"Ok," Lee agreed. "Point taken. But, frankly, I'm sick of being lied to. And you're delusional if you think I'm going to stand by and watch you do it again." Closing his eyes for a moment, Lee quietly drew in a breath and desperately steadied his voice. "Please," he whispered. "For the sake of my sanity, I need you to tell me the truth."

Without uttering a sound, the Commander slowly nodded his head and then commenced his explanation.

"You're right," Bill said. "You _do_ deserve some answers." For several seconds, the Commander weighed his options, mentally debating exactly how he should proceed. "You see, the truth is. . . When Kara first showed up with Kacey, just three weeks after your brother's accident, all I kept seeing were Caroline's eyes. And – although Kara said she was certain – I think I just hoped for a miracle. So I had Cottle run a DNA test. Afterwards, when the results came back negative, part of me was disappointed because I knew it would have meant the world to Zak to leave behind a legacy. . ." Momentarily, the Commander glanced towards Lee, who seemed stunned – and more than just a little bit shaken – by this newest revelation. But that wasn't the end of the story. "And then," the Commander continued, "when Cottle explained that the test had shown some anomalies – certain genetic similarities which weren't quite specific enough to indicate a legitimate paternal match, but which may have been evidence for some lesser biological connection – I can't say that I didn't wonder. . . To be honest, though, I was never entirely certain. Without running a second test, none of the results were really conclusive. But I may have subscribed to certain hypotheses, even if the absence of genuine proof."

"Gods," Lee said with a shudder, finally realizing that Kara had unknowingly slept with his brother. "I'd almost forgotten all about that." Briefly, the word 'fiancée' also flashed painfully in the back of Lee's mind. "So you've known from the beginning." Lee raised his voice. "You've known for fourteen months."

"No," Bill said. "I've known for about _five__ minutes_, since the moment you barged in here and told me yourself. Before that, it was nothing more than hopeful speculation."

"Speculation or not, you should have told me. Even if you weren't certain. You still frakking should have told me. And you should have done it the day you first found out."

"If I remember correctly, you weren't speaking to me then."

"That's not an excuse," Lee countered, drastically increasing his volume.

"No," Bill agreed. "But it's a hell of an explanation. You weren't returning my calls, Lee. What would you have had me do?"

"I don't know," Lee replied honestly. "But you should have done _something_. If not last year, then certainly last week. You can't say we haven't been speaking since then. I see you every frakking day. So don't you dare tell me that you've never had the frakking opportunity. Because we both know that's a lie. You've had fourteen days worth. And, so far, you've neglected every single godsdamn one." Stepping back, Lee drew in a breath and softened his tone. "But if you have an explanation – a _legitimate_ explanation – then I'd sincerely like to hear it."

"I can tell you right now that whatever you're thinking, you're wrong."

Lee shook his head. "All the more reason to set the record straight. . ."

"I mean it, Son. This isn't an explanation you're going to like. . ."

"Maybe," Lee said. "But if it's Ok with you, I think I'd like to make that call for myself."

"All right," the Commander replied. "I don't exactly know where to begin, but – well – the thing is. . . Kara's been under my command for a while now and – in that time – she's almost become like family. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. Just as there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you."

"Yeah?" Lee asked. "Well, you certainly have an interesting way of showing it. You haven't exactly been honest with either of us."

"You're right," Bill said. "I won't deny that I haven't always been the most forthcoming when it comes certain things, including Kacey's paternity. But I certainly haven't done so out of malice or some kind of ill-intentioned retribution. To be honest, I was trying to look after Kara."

"Really?" Lee asked. "How in the hell do you figure?"

"I think we both know that Kara's tough as nails _on the outside_. But _inside. . .inside _she's fragile. And she hasn't exactly had it easy these past few years. The last thing she needs right now is you walking out on her. And, honestly, I hoped to spare her that by keeping this secret just long enough to change your mind about parenting."

"And what makes you think that I'd walk out on her?"

"Honestly," Bill said. "I don't want history repeating."

"Dad. . ." Lee replied slowly. "Kara left _me_. I didn't abandon her. Or whatever it is that you're thinking."

"I know," the Commander explained. "I wasn't talking about Kara."

"Then who—"

"Gianne," Bill said. "Zak told me what happened. . . He said that you left her. . . persuaded her to get an abortion. . . "

"Ok," Lee countered. "First of all, that _isn't _what happened. I _did_ walk away when she said that she was pregnant. But I _never_ told her to get an abortion. That was _her _decision." For an instant, Lee seemed physically pained. "I can't believe that Zak would say that. In fact, I can't believe he told you at all. That wasn't his secret to tell."

"Maybe," Bill conceded. "But – at some point, Lee – you have to stop isolating yourself and start letting people in."

"Yeah," Lee agreed. "Well, I guess I learned from the best."

Slowly, the commander closed his eyes, drew a breath, and shook his head.

"My faults are mine, Lee. Things haven't always been simple and I'll certainly be the first to admit that I've made my share of errors in the past. I'd be lying if I said that wasn't so. But you're my son. And although I've sometimes pressured you to follow in my footsteps, I never meant for those mistakes to be repeated."

"Look," Lee said, finally understanding exactly why his father had felt the need to shield Kara so fiercely. "I don't know what Zak told you, but that mess with Gianne was more than eight years ago. I was _nineteen_ when it happened. I wasn't ready for a family. Not by a long shot. _Not even close._ And Gianne. . . Well, Gianne was beautiful; and smart; and, sometimes, we were really great. But I was still a cadet back then and a baby would have meant the end of everything." Suddenly, Lee's features seemed to harden. "_No flight school. No war college. No vipers. No wings._ I'd be an Academy washout. And you'd never have let me forget it." For another long moment, Lee seemed to pause, as if reflecting on painful and long-buried memories he'd rather not drudge up. "I'm not saying it wasn't wrong to do what I did to Gianne. I hurt her. I know that. And – sometimes – I think I'll never forgive myself for letting her down. But I've changed a lot since then. And, anyway, it's different with Kara."

"Fair enough," the Commander replied. "But, for Kacey's sake, I really hope you mean that."

"Kacey," Lee repeated slowly and seemingly slightly in awe, almost as though he had finally realized the significance of actually being her father. "Gods," Lee said, smiling broadly. "She's really perfect, isn't she?"

"She is," Bill agreed, meeting Lee's grin with his own. "And – honestly – I hate to spoil the moment, but I really do need you to speak with Kara about training those pilots. At this point, we're only waiting on her."

"You want me to ask her _now?_" Lee asked incredulous. "Don't you think that maybe there are other – _more important_ – things that I might want to ask her?"

"Yes," Bill said. "And rightly so. But those are personal matters. This is your job. And, _now_, I need you to do it."

"And if she refuses?" Lee asked. "What then?"

"Your orders are to change her mind, Lee. Send her up here when you've finished."

**Author's Note: This chapter was sort of a pain in the ass for me to write. So if you have some time, please review!!! . . . After all, feedback is always appreciated and I could use some extra inspiration. . . **


	10. Chapter 10

**Legacy**

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is an AU Lee/Kara story. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing (particularly the three or so lines near the end that come directly from season 1) and am not making a profit from this story.**

**Chapter 10: The Ugly Truth**

By all rights, Lee Adama should have been focused on combat.

In fact, given the current circumstances aboard the Galactica – as well as the rather hard-hitting reality that the Cylons had gained _yet another_ strategic advantage without so much as lifting a finger or blinking an eyelid – Lee Adama probably should have been thinking about schedules, or tactics, or CAPs.

Without question, he should have been mourning the loss of his pilots, motivating his comrades to remain hopeful in the face of hardship, or somehow determining _how in the hell_ they expected to train an entire squadron of nuggets without any real facilities or a single frakking simulator.

In short, he should have been thinking logistics and, ultimately, devising solutions for the multitude of heavy, complicated problems currently impacting the lives of Galactica's crew.

At the moment, however, tactics, and schedules, and pilots barely registered as tiny blips on Lee's radar, as most of his thoughts were entirely centered on Kacey and the rather belated realization that his life – and his values – might never be the same.

For most people, the end of the worlds had been life-changing in the largest of possible ways, and, in the shadow of such colossal horror, little else had really seemed to matter.

Lee, on the other hand, had accepted the return of the Cylons, and their subsequent attack on the Colonies, in perfect frakking stride, never once allowing fear – or panic – to stand in the way of his duties as both a soldier and a pilot.

Yet, after everything – after all the flying, and the fighting, and the warfare – it was actually the onset of fatherhood, and the knowledge that Kacey would someday look to_ him_ for guidance and unconditional devotion, rather than the looming threat of Cylon terror, which had finally shattered Lee's defenses and forced his latent "daddy-issues" to the forefront.

In many ways, Lee's relationship with the Commander had quickly found new footing since the onset of the second Cylon War. But – for the most part – such changes had largely been born of crisis, as well as the unspoken understanding to forget the past in order to move forward in the present. Accordingly, while the dynamic between Lee and his father may have seemed _peachy_ and perfect from the outside, the reality was somewhat more complex, as nothing had truly been resolved – just packaged up and neatly boxed away – and, thus, still very much affected Lee Adama.

But, slowly, he was coming around. And although the notion of parenting often seemed more frightening than several hundred Cylon raiders, Lee knew that he would go to any lengths to protect his little girl.

Thus, with a hesitant shudder and a shaky, uncertain step forward, Lee quickly braced himself for the most crucial and momentous introduction of his life, wholeheartedly believing that this particular gathering was strictly an occasion to focus on Kacey and absolutely no one else.

Inevitably, however, it was Kara who opened the hatch, and it was Kara who quietly stepped outside, and it was Kara who tilted her head just a fraction before smiling briefly and looking Lee straight in the eye. And, suddenly, Lee realized that – in spite of all his scruples and his planning and his mental preparation – Kara simply wasn't one to be ignored.

"So," she said, seeming earnest, and candid, and just the slightest bit playful. "You're looking much calmer."

"Really?" Lee asked, sounding skeptical and unconvinced. After all, he certainly didn't _feel_ any calmer. "How can you tell?"

"Well, I guess you probably wouldn't have noticed. . .but earlier. . .you. . .uh. . .turned pretty red. . . And maybe it was just my imagination, but I really could have sworn that I saw _steam_ shooting out from your ears. . ."

Catching on, Lee quickly rolled his eyes and smiled slightly, in spite of himself.

"Anyway," Kara continued. "There's certainly less smoke this time around. . ." She smiled impishly. "Am I wrong to consider that progress?"

"No," Lee agreed. "I may have overreacted."

"So, we're Ok, then? Everything can just go back to normal?"

"No," Lee deadpanned, as the amusement suddenly seemed to vanish from his smile. After all, forgiveness was _one thing_. But Lee wasn't about to simply _forget _all the problems. "We're_ far_ from Ok," he continued, "And I don't think anything can ever_ just _go back to normal. . . Not after you lied about _our_ daughter and almost married my brother."

"About that," Kara replied. "I was _going_ to tell you."

"You know, you keep saying that. . . And – each time – I feel more and more ridiculous for listening."

"I know. Just let me explain."

"No," Lee countered, unsuccessfully attempting to swallow his pride and simply air his grievance, without losing his temper once more. "I don't have time for your bullshit, and, frankly, that's not why I'm here." Suddenly, Lee felt incredibly uncomfortable: _he was acting like a total ass_. "So," he said, glancing past Kara and into the space behind her. "Do you think that I could come in? I'd sort of like to see my daughter."

"Yeah," Kara agreed. "But you'll have to be quiet. She's sleeping."

"Oh," Lee replied, stepping inside, as Kara quietly closed the door behind him. "Do you mind if we wake her? I – uh – brought her a cookie. . ." Somewhat awkwardly, he paused. "I think it might be slightly stale. But it was all I could find in the kitchen. . . and, even then, I had to bribe the chef with the last of my cubits. . ."

"You can wake her. . . Just don't expect my sympathy when she won't stop screaming."

"Right," Lee said slowly, looking deflated, and dejected, and more than just the slightest bit crushed. "Would you rather I come back tonight?"

"No," Kara insisted, apparently struck with a sudden burst of empathy. "Actually, I have something to show you. Just. . . give me a second to find it. . ." Kara walked over to her desk and started paging through a file. "Here," she finally said, handing Lee a sheet of paper. "It's Kacey's birth certificate. I had Cottle add your name while I was down in sickbay. I thought. . . well, I thought it'd be smart to make things official. And I figured you'd want that . . . in case something ever happened. . ." Kara rolled her eyes. "Anyway, you should have seen the look that Cottle gave me when I asked – like he already knew all the details and had only been waiting 'till I worked up the courage to say it. . ."

"Kara," Lee said, glancing down at the official document in question. "I appreciate the gesture. But that doesn't really change the fact that. . ." Briefly, Lee seemed to lose his focus. "It says her middle name is Caroline." Lee was blatantly staring at the sheet of paper in front of him. "That was. . ."

"Zak's idea," Kara finished. "He thought your mom might appreciate the tribute."

"She would," Lee confirmed. "I think she always wished she'd had a daughter. . ."

Kara nodded. "That's exactly what Zak said. . . Except I think he was slightly more bitter when he said it."

"So, you and Zak. . ." Lee started. "Honestly, I think I gagged the first time I made the connection."

Frowning, Kara shook her head and raised an eyebrow. "You really want to go there?" she asked, looking skeptical and surprisingly controlled.

"No," Lee admitted. "Not really. . . At least, not in the way that you think. . . But if you had to be with someone. . . I'm certainly not _glad_ that it was Zak. . . Though, I do think it's nice to know you have good taste. . ."

"Lee. . ."

"No, really," he said. "I get it." For a long moment, Lee visibly paused. "I do," he confirmed. "I was gone, and by some ironic twist of fate, you met my brother. I can't exactly fault you for needing someone to lean on – especially not after learning you were pregnant. And, anyway, it's not like you could have known that we were brothers. I look more like my mother. And, for the most part, there wasn't ever very much we had in common." Momentarily, Lee looked physically pained. "But if I couldn't have raised my daughter, then I'd want Zak to be there. I'd want _him_ to be her father. And at the end of the day, I think that's all that really matters."

Kara smiled. "I think he'd appreciate that. And I think his answer would have been the same if the situation were reversed."

At that moment, a soft creaking noise drew both Lee and Kara's attention towards the opposite side of the room, where they immediately noticed Kacey, standing up against the railing of her bed, with a surprisingly giddy expression.

"Up!" she said, glancing at her parents with wide, happy eyes. " Up! Kara, up!"

As Kara moved towards Kacey and easily complied with her request, Lee knitted his eyebrows in confusion and threw Kara an uncertain glance.

"She doesn't call you Mom?"

"She does," Kara corrected, gently sweeping her daughter's hair behind her tiny ears. "Just not all the time. . ."

"Why not?"

"Because she's stubborn," Kara explained. "And she thinks it's funny. . . Right Kace?" Kara asked, addressing the toddler, who merely giggled – and sputtered slightly – in response. "To tell you the truth, I think she got it from Helo. I left them alone for about three hours one day and by the time I got back, she wouldn't stop calling me Kara. Usually, she only does it in public, which basically makes her a tease. . . And recently, I think it's gotten better. But she can still be pretty relentless when she wants to."

"Well, can't you just tell her to stop?"

"She's two, Lee. She doesn't always listen."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"No," Kara said flatly. "She'll grow out of it eventually." Turning back towards Kacey, Kara gently placed the toddler in a low, cushioned chair, handed her some funny-looking egg-shaped crayons, and then slowly bent down to whisper softly in her ear, as Lee looked on, transfixed. From his position on the opposite side of the room, Lee couldn't quite hear what Kara was saying, but in response to her words, Kacey immediately seemed to nod and then quickly reached for the brightest crayon on the table, before beginning to scribble.

Once Kacey was settled, and – apparently – content, Lee glanced back at Kara, who met his eye, smiled slightly, and then stood up, softly kissing the top of Kacey's temple in the process.

"And what if she doesn't?" Lee asked, once the spell was broken and Kara finally returned to his side of the room.

"For frak's sake, Lee, does it really make a difference? It's literally _Armageddon_ out there and here _she_ is: healthy, and happy, and safe. Does anything else really matter?"

"Ok," Lee said. "When you put it like that. . ."

"Good," Kara replied. "Now, I hope that's the end of these ridiculous questions. . . At the rate you were going, I almost expected a critique of her wardrobe. . ."

"Well," Lee retorted, shamelessly cracking a grin. "She _is_ a girl, Kara. Would really kill you to dress her like one?"

"Yes," Kara insisted, glaring at Lee, even though he was clearly just joking. "And, besides," she continued. "I think Kacey looks pretty damn cute in camo."

"Kara, she's frakking beautiful. She'd look cute in a paper bag."

"You know, I put your name on that birth certificate as a personal courtesy. . . Don't make me regret it." Kara's tone was fierce and intimidating, but her eyes were mischievous and her expression decidedly playful.

"Duly noted. So – uh – how do you think we should tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Kara asked, as her eyes flicked back towards Kacey.

"About me," Lee said. "How should we do it? Quickly – like ripping off a band-aid? Or should we ease her into it more slowly? I'd hate for this to confuse her. . ." Lee paused. "You know her better than I do. What do you think?"

"I think. . . you shouldn't over-think it."

_Of course_, Lee thought._ Leave it to Kara to oversimplify and generally give the most useless frakking answer in the universe. _

"Look," Kara continued, noting Lee's dubious expression. "Just spend some time with her, Ok? She'll like you. I promise."

"Right," Lee said. "But what if she doesn't?"

"She will," Kara assured him. "She likes everyone. . . Well, everyone except the XO."

Lee laughed. "And exactly what does she have against Tigh?"

"You mean besides the obvious?"

"Yes. . . Besides his _winning_ personality. . ."

"No idea," Kara admitted. "But she screams her frakking head off whenever he comes within a mile. . . And, then – occasionally – she'll just cover her eyes, cower in fear, and say she's hiding from the boogieman. It's actually pretty cute if you can ignore all the crying. And it annoys the frak out of Tigh. . . which is always good for a laugh. . ."

As Lee prepared to respond, he noticed that Kacey had somehow escaped from her seat at the table and was currently heading straight for him, egg-shaped crayons and completed drawing in-hand.

Once she reached her intended destination at the base of his legs, Kacey motioned for Lee to crouch down beside her and then smiled brightly as soon as they were nose-to-nose. Gently, she held out a very colorful picture and then glanced up at Lee.

"Is this for me?" he asked, leaning slightly closer and gesturing briefly towards the drawing now resting firmly in her tiny hand.

Immediately, Kacey nodded, staring back at Lee with wide blue eyes.

"Thanks," Lee said slowly, glancing briefly between Kacey and Kara, who quickly met his eyes, and smiled reassuringly. "Can you tell me what it is?"

"You," Kacey said, pointing to a small, triangular _something _at the center of the page. "And Mommy," she whispered, pointing to a crooked circle over to the left.

"And what's all this?" Lee asked, referring to the picture's background. "A rainbow?" he suggested. "Or maybe a star?"

"No," Kacey said, pointing to the paper once again. "Colors," she explained, looking back towards Lee for confirmation.

"Oh," Lee replied, accepting the drawing with a grateful smile. "Well, it's very pretty."

"Yeah," Kacey agreed. "Now," she said, handing Lee a crayon. "You draw."

"You want me to draw you a picture?"

Smiling broadly, Kacey nodded.

"Kacey," Kara interrupted, briefly catching Lee's eye. "Why don't you draw Mommy a picture instead? I need one to put in my viper."

For a moment, Kacey looked positively crestfallen and Lee instantly felt his heart shatter into several thousand pieces.

"It's fine," he cut in, grabbing a sheet of paper from the table. "I'll do it. I'll draw you a picture, Kace."

Satisfied, Kacey smiled, returned to her table, and clumsily scrambled back into her chair.

"Look," Lee said. "Before I forget, there's something else I need to ask you. . ."

"Ok. . ." Kara replied. "Why am I suddenly nervous?"

"It's actually more of a request. . .from my father. He – uh – wants you to become his flight instructor and—"

"No," Kara answered quickly. "Tell the Old Man to find someone else."

"Kara, there _isn't_ anyone else. We need someone to teach _in-air_ combat tactics and, right now, you're the only one who has the training."

"Actually, you're wrong because I can't do it either."

"Come on, Kara, it'll only be one class. Ten students. That's it. It'll be a cakewalk. And, if you want, I can even get you out of normal CAPs."

"If it's such a dream job, _Lee_, why don't you frakking do it yourself?"

"Because, unlike you, I'm not qualified. And, frankly, I'm busy enough as it is."

"I'm sorry," Kara said. "But I really can't"

"Can't or won't?" Lee asked.

"_Can't_," Kara clarified. "Just drop it, Ok?"

"Look," Lee said, frustration clearly evident in every word he spoke. "Maybe you don't get it—"

"Keep your voice down, Lee. It really won't be pretty if Kacey thinks we're fighting."

"Sorry," he said. "But this isn't just some stupid favor. We've been losing pilots every day now—"

"You think I don't know that? Gods," Kara whispered. "In case you forgot, I just spent the last eleven hours down in sickbay."

"And that's exactly why we need you."

For a long moment, Kara merely stared at Lee.

"Did your father even tell you how Zak and I first met?"

"No," Lee replied. "But I really don't see how that matters right now."

"I was his flight instructor, Ok? It was my responsibility to teach him to fly without crashing. . . and since we all know how _perfectly_ that seemed to turn out, I'm thinking you might want to find someone else."

"Kara, that was an accident. Believe me, there wasn't anyone who took it harder than I did. . . but it wasn't your fault. And – well, maybe I never understood until now – but it wasn't mine either. Accidents happen. That's life."

"That's not the point," Kara argued. "Zak never should have been in that cockpit. He had no business flying that ship. His technique was sloppy from the beginning and he lacked a feel for flying. From a practical standpoint, he never should have made it past his first semester. But he did," Kara said. "_Because I passed him_."

"Gods, Kara, tell me you didn't. . ."

"I wish I didn't," she whispered. "I can't even tell you how much. And I'd give anything to take it back. But he wanted it so badly," Kara explained, looking desperate, and pained, and filled with horror and self-hatred. "And I just couldn't be the one to crush him."

"_Right,_" Lee said. "I think that I should go."

"No," Kara objected. "You can't just run away from this."

"Actually, I can. . . But you're right. I probably shouldn't. So if you have anything else to tell me, you'd better do it now because I'm really frakking sick of being blindsided."

"No," Kara replied. "That's it." She paused. "That's everything."

"Fine," Lee said, turning towards the exit. "Your class begins at 0800 hours. I need you there on time."

"My class?" Kara repeated. "_That's funny_. I don't remember accepting."

"You didn't," Lee explained. "But we need a flight instructor. And, at the moment, you're the best we've got, regardless of what you did – or didn't do – for Zak. Yes, his accident was tragic, but the truth is: I think we're all a little bit responsible. . . Because if I had never learned to fly a viper, then Zak never would have felt compelled to go to flight school. And if my father hadn't pulled the strings, then he never would have gotten in. And sure, maybe his instructor was a little too lenient, or his flying a little too reckless, or his hangover a little to strong. The _point_, Kara, is that you're not the _only_ person who helped put Zak in that plane, even if you did contribute more than some. And, in reality, he could have quit at any moment. . . But he didn't. Instead, he tried to be a big shot, and he lost his focus, and – because of that – he paid a heavy price. So, yeah, you passed him, and maybe that was wrong, and maybe you shouldn't have let your personal life interfere with your job. But that's over. And we need you. So, like it or not, it's time to learn from your mistakes and get back on the horse. This is a personal issue. Your job is to train those pilots. Step up and do it right this time." For several long moments, Lee paused. _Was it only him or did this little speech sound eerily familiar? _"And don't be late for CAP."

"I thought you said you'd get me out of that if I agreed to teach the class?"

"I changed my mind," Lee replied coldly. "I'll see you on the flight deck in. . ." He checked his watch. "Two hours. Don't be late."

"Lee, come on. You know that isn't fair."

"You made your bed, Kara."

"You're right," she agreed. "I did. And you can be mad at me for as long as you need to. But Kacey's with her sitter enough as it is already. . . Please don't make _your daughter_ pay the price for my mistakes."

"Fine," Lee said. "Starting tomorrow, you can leave her with me if you need someone to watch her. And once you get those nuggets into the air and moving like pilots, rather than jagged-edged space-junk with entirely too much inertia, I'll see what I can do about the schedule."

"Thanks," Kara said sarcastically. "That's really frakking helpful."

Shrugging his shoulders, Lee flashed Kara a perfect, shiny-white grin and then moved swiftly towards the bulkhead.

"Hey," Kara shouted, as Lee slipped out the threshold. Slowly, she walked over the space that Lee had formerly been occupying and casually lifted Kacey's drawing. "Don't forget this," Kara cautioned. "She'd be pretty hurt if she thought you didn't want it."

"Thanks," Lee said. "I'll – uh – finish mine later."

"You'd better," Kara warned. "She's not big on broken promises."

"Yeah?" Lee asked. "Well, I'm not big on lies."


	11. Chapter 11

**Legacy**

**Summary: Emotional and angry, Lee Adama arrives at his father's office on the day of Galactica's decommissioning only to encounter more than a few unexpected – but not altogether unwelcome – surprises. This is an AU Lee/Kara story. **

**Disclaimer: The characters, events, and circumstances depicted in this story are mostly the property of Ron Moore, Glenn Larsen, and Universal Studios. I own nothing (particularly the multitude of quotes that come almost directly from **_**Act of Contrition**_**) and am not making a profit from this story. (Also, credit for any marked improvement in grammar or the like undoubtedly belongs to Sarah LoTuS, who kindly stepped in when I realized I couldn't spell.)**

**Chapter 11: An Inkling of Progress **

As Lee Adama cautiously opened the hatch to Kara Thrace's stateroom, he wondered – not for the first time – whether he'd been wrong to use his rank and status as CAG to further his own selfish ends by forcing Kara to maintain her CAPs, even after she'd agreed to train the nuggets.

After all, she'd seemed perfectly exhausted the last few times he'd seen her. And for someone like Kara, who was always on the go, exhaustion _of any kind_ was more than just _uncharacteristic_; it was downright disturbing.

On the other hand, Kara had intentionally misled him on numerous fronts, so – in a sense – she'd made her bed and was only just beginning to understand that _sometimes_ actions had consequences.

Plus, it wasn't as if he'd put her in combat. And with the Cylons still MIA, her CAPs weren't much of a risk. . .

Thus, even if Kara's classes and additional CAP rotations _had_ afforded Lee the perfect excuse to spend some quality time with Kacey, that didn't mean he wasn't playing fairly.

With Kara as an opponent, Lee's arsenal of weapons was severely limited, but he _did _outrank her. And, dammit, if she was going to lie about something as important as the death of his brother, then Lee certainly wasn't willing to back down on his orders simply because she seemed a bit _tired_, particularly not when everyone, including the Commander, was well aware that Kara Thrace desperately needed to gain some respect for authority. And, as far as Lee could tell, some _tough love_ was clearly the solution.

Upon entering the quarters, Lee immediately spotted Kacey seated at a table in the corner and subsequently noticed that the bathroom door was slightly ajar, revealing a messy-haired Kara standing in front of the sink with a toothbrush.

At the sound of the hatch slamming shut, Kara looked up.

"Hey," she called, her voice slightly muffled through the half-open door. "Just give me a second, OK? It's been a rough morning. . ."

"Yeah," Lee replied. "Take your time."

Turning around, Lee anxiously moved over towards Kacey, who seemed hard at work on a puzzle.

"Hey Kace," he said, hoping he didn't sound nervous. "Can I sit with you for a minute?"

Nodding, Kacey waited patiently as Lee quickly took a seat, then giggled slightly and quietly resumed her task.

For several seconds, Lee simply watched her as she played, still completely awestruck and enamored by each and every action, laugh, and smile. Eventually, however, he realized that perhaps it'd be best if they actually spoke and subsequently began to rack his brain for something even remotely interesting – and comprehensible – to tell her.

"That's a nice puzzle," Lee finally prompted, wishing he wasn't so awkward – and entirely hopeless – with children. "Do you know what kind of animal that is?"

"Snow Bear," Kacey replied, clumsily attempting to align a painted bear-shaped cutout with its matching space and picture on her wooden puzzle board.

"You sure?" Lee asked, simultaneously grinning in amusement and knitting his eyebrows in confusion, wondering if Kara had taught her to say that. "I think it's called a Polar Bear."

Laughing slightly, Kacey shook her head. "Snow Bear," she corrected, then picked up a stuffed white Teddy sitting to her right and handed it to Lee. "Snow Bear," she repeated, this time pointing to the Teddy's face.

"Oh," Lee replied. "Snow Bear's his _name_."

Grinning widely, Kacey nodded.

"You might want to take that with you," Kara advised, half-distracted, as she entered the room and briefly caught sight of Lee's interaction with Kacey. "She hasn't put it down all morning. And sometimes. . ." Kara paused. "Well, sometimes she gets too attached." Briefly, Kara flashed an impish grin. "I guess she gets that from you."

"_Funny_," Lee replied. "Are we talking about the puzzle or the bear?"

"The bear," Kara explained, slightly put off by Lee's indifference and general lack of emotion. "She's had it since she was born. Zak—" Kara stopped.

"Right," Lee said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Well, I'll just take her and go then. . ."

"Oh," Kara replied. "Well, if that's what you want. . ."

"Thanks," Lee interrupted. "I think that'd be best. I have some work to catch up on and you shouldn't be late for your class."

"Why's that?" Kara asked. "I'm late for everything else. . ." Glancing back at Lee, Kara noticed he still wasn't smiling. "Fine," she said. "I'll take this seriously. Just take care of her, OK?"

"I will," Lee promised. "Kacey comes first, no matter what. You have my word."

"Good," Kara replied. "I hope it's not totally worthless."

**

* * *

**

"Never leave your leader."

"Right," Kara confirmed. "You never want to be out here alone."

Reluctantly – and almost in spite of herself – Kara smiled. So maybe she _was_ a good flight instructor. . . Maybe Lee had actually been right to force her into this, even if it meant drudging up an entire trove of painful memories or finally owning up to her mistakes. . . And maybe the nuggets weren't really quite as useless and uncoordinated as she'd originally thought.

Yet, either way, none of it actually changed the fact that the Commander had practically threatened her life after learning the truth about Zak or the equally depressing reality that Lee could barely look at her without frowning, or scowling, or simply glaring daggers and shaking his head.

And, Gods-frakking-dammit, it was driving her crazy.

"All right," Kara said, attempting to steady her voice as she slowly pressed her thumb against the transmit button. "Chuckles, take Kat's wing. Hot Dog, you're on me. We're gonna try a little maneuver called the Thorch Weave."

"You hear that, Chuckles," Kat quickly put in with a laugh. "She's letting you fly with the big dogs."

"Kat!" Kara barked, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Knock it off! Completing one training mission doesn't make you an ace. And if you frak up out here, Chief'll be cleaning what's left of you up off that seat with a rag. Now quit screwing around and get your sorry frakking ass back on point."

"Yes, Sir," Kat replied as she wiped the smile from her face and quickly moved into position.

Suddenly, however, Kara's DRADIS screen began to _beep_ as several flashing lights – in a perfect star formation – simultaneously appeared within the far left quadrant of her screen.

"Starbuck—" Hot Dog shouted in a voice that clearly indicated panic. "My DRADIS—"

"Frak," Kara interrupted. "Galactica—Starbuck—We've got incoming. I'm reading six Cylon raiders bearing 3-9-7 carom 2-3-1: two heavy, four drones. I think we're gonna need you to send the cavalry ASAP." Inhaling deeply, Kara paused. Six against four were never great odds, even if her wingmen were fully trained Viper jocks with actual combat experience, rather than first-time rookies with the combined potential of a mediocre pilot, at best. As it was, her companions were actually more of a burden – and would ultimately prove more of a personal handicap – than any semblance of cooperative aid. Hell, Kat could barely take an order without mouthing off to some degree and as much as Chuckles had certainly improved these past few days, he still had trouble maintaining formation without losing sight of his target. "OK, nuggets," Kara finally concluded. "Punch in for home and don't look back."

Simultaneously, all three nuggets turned their Vipers towards Galactica, expecting Kara to follow suit.

"Galactica—Starbuck—What am I looking at?"

"Starbuck—Galactica Actual—We've detected nuclear signatures aboard the heavy raiders. They've got nukes on board."

"Frak," Kara shouted to no one in particular. "Alright, nuggets, listen up. Stay together and keep your throttles fire-walled until you hit the deck. These are combat landings, people. Just like we practiced." Momentarily, she paused, then glanced down at DRADIS and let out a fierce grunt of annoyance. "Galactica—Starbuck—Where the heck are my alert fighters?"

"Starbuck—Galactica Actual—Apollo's just launched. The rest are still in the tubes."

"Dammit," Kara replied. "Can you give me an ETA?"

"Starbuck—Apollo—ETA on the alert fighters is three minutes and counting. Do not engage. Your orders are to hold position. Repeat: Do not engage. Your orders are to hold position. Do you copy?"

"Negative, Apollo. What the frak do you think you're doing in a Viper?"

"Well. . ." Lee started. "Saving your ass, for one thing."

"That's great," Kara agreed sarcastically. "But, as I understand it, we had a deal. And, somehow, I find it hard to believe that you're watching Kacey from inside that fighter."

"No. . ." Lee conceded. "But I left her in qualified hands."

"I'm sure you did. . ." Kara said slowly. "Only. . .those weren't the terms we agreed on. . ."

"Well," Lee replied "That's debatable. In any case, I used my best judgment. Now stop frakking around and hold your godsdamn position."

"Galactica—Starbuck—What's the status on the raiders?"

"Starbuck—Galactica Actual—the heavy raiders just went hot. They're preparing to fire."

"Copy that, Galactica. I should have eyes on the target in less than 40 seconds. Permission to fire on sight?"

"Starbuck—Apollo—Permission denied. Your orders are to hold position. Do you copy?"

"Negative, Apollo. Their nukes are hot, so unless you'd prefer one hell of a fireworks show, someone needs to take these frakkers out. And the sooner we strike, the better."

"Kara, they've got you outnumbered six to one. I don't care how frakking quick you think you are, you won't last thirty seconds on your own in there. Pull out before you get yourself killed."

For an instant, Lee felt his muscles clench in frustration. Once again, Kara was acting entirely reckless, and impulsive, and so characteristically _Starbuck _that he almost wanted to hurt her himself, if only to prove it were _possible_, as she clearly believed herself to be invincible and, frankly, these stupid frakking stunts were growing old. "Starbuck, I said pull out. Acknowledge!"

"Negative, Apollo. Preparing to engage."

"Starbuck, this isn't a one man job! Abort mission and pull out immediately!" Now thoroughly annoyed, Lee removed one hand from his control panel and immediately squeezed his fist until his knuckles went white. "Starbuck, pull out! That's an order!"

Glancing down at DRADIS, Lee realized that Kara was only seconds away from enemy contact and immediately altered his instructions. "Starbuck, you're getting too close. Double back and meet the squadron."

_Sorry_, Kara thought silently. _Not gonna happen._

"Starbuck, respond! Your orders are to meet the squadron. Acknowledge!"

"Negative, Sir. I have the target in sight."

"Dammit, Kara, use your frakking head. Kacey needs a mother right now, not a frakking hero – especially not a dead one. Pull out and double back to meet the squadron."

"Crap," Kara muttered, realizing Lee was right and that she, in turn, was a terrible mother. Frustrated, Kara jammed her thumb onto the transmit button. "Copy that, Apollo. I'll meet you half—" As Kara prepared to cease fire and return to the squadron, a Viper Mark II shot by her at breakneck speed, releasing a steady stream of fire as it passed. "What the. . . Hot Dog!" Kara roared. "What the hell are you doing? I thought I told you to get your ass home."

"I thought you said, 'Never leave your leader.'"

"I did," Kara agreed. "But I also said, 'Never disobey a direct order.'"

"Hey – Look!" Hot Dog shouted. "I got one!"

Unfortunately, Hot Dog's excitement was cut short by the promise of return fire from a second Cylon raider, which almost took out his wing.

"Dammit, Hot Dog," Kara shouted, jamming her thumb on her trigger. "Stay on me, no matter what, you got it?"

"Yeah," Hot Dog confirmed as Kara destroyed the second enemy ship. "I got it."

"Good," Kara continued. "We'll engage on my mark. No hesitation, OK? Shoot first. Aim smart. Don't stay in one place for too long. And whatever you do, don't lose sight of your target."

"Right," Hot Dog replied. "I'm ready on your mark."

Kara hit the 3rd Cylon raider with so much ease, it could have been standing still. And, after a bit of coaching, and coaxing, and several shots that missed their mark completely, Hot Dog took out the first of the heavy raiders, leaving only two enemy fighters in play.

"Break left," Kara instructed, as one of the raiders came up on Hot Dog's tail. "Then double back and come at him from the front."

"I think I got him," Hot Dog shouted after firing several shots. "Wait. . . Holy frakking—"

Looking back towards Hot Dog, Kara caught sight of a large piece of shrapnel headed straight for her. On instinct, she thrust her throttle and quickly maneuvered out of its path, but accidentally encountered a smaller chunk of what was once Hot Dog's engine in the process. "What the hell, Hot Dog? I thought you said you got him?"

"I did," Hot Dog confirmed. "But I must've been too close. I think he took out my engine. . ."

"No kidding. . ." Kara quipped. "Your guns still work?"

"Yeah," Hot Dog replied. "But my engine cut out and. . ."

"Look," Kara ordered. "Just hold tight, OK? You see anyone coming you fire." Steadying her breath, Kara paused. _One more to go._ Except this time, her wingman was out for the count and Kara was truly alone. Glancing back at DRADIS, Kara scowled. The hit she'd taken after dodging the shrapnel must have fried her computers because her screen was totally black.

"Galactica, what's the ETA on my alert fighters? I'm flying completely blind out here."

"Starbuck—Galactica Actual—According to DRADIS, Apollo should be approaching your position any second."

"Copy that, Galactica." Shaking slightly – both from fear and the very familiar feel of an adrenalin rush – Kara removed her hand from the throttle and stretched her fingers, slowly balling her hand into a fist and then opening her palm to ease the tension. "Hey Apollo," she called, forcing herself to adopt a cocky tone that felt _anything_ but authentic. "Thanks for taking your time out there. With my DRADIS down, I'm a sitting duck."

"Come on. . ." Apollo responded. "I thought you liked a good challenge. . ." His tone was playful and, for an instant, Kara felt as though she were back on Caprica, joking with Lee under bar light and wishing, all the while, that things could really be that good forever.

"I do," Kara agreed, shaking her head and forcing the memory out. "But that doesn't mean I have a death wish."

"So don't sit still," Lee suggested. "DRADIS or not, a moving target's still harder to hit."

"Thanks for the lecture, Apollo. You plan on getting here at some point?"

"Affirmative," Lee answered. "I should have eyes on you in 10."

"Yeah?" Kara asked. "Let's say we scrap the meet and greet and you just concentrate on getting here as fast as possible. . ."

"All right, Starbuck, cut the crap. I have you in sight and you've got a heavy raider on your ass. Bring him around towards the moon on your left and I'll take the shot once you're clear."

"Roger that, Apollo. I'll bring him around in. . . Frak! I'm taking fire!"

From several meters away, Lee's heart dropped into his stomach as Kara's ship went dead and subsequently began spiraling out towards the adjacent moon, where he'd been waiting to shoot.

Momentarily horrified, Lee hesitated only long enough to miss the raider's kill zone and, in turn, was forced to settle for only a blow to the Cylon's hull before his ship made its inevitable contact with Kara's and everyone – including the injured heavy raider – began to corkscrew towards the moon.

"Crap," Kara muttered into her helmet. "My controls are dead."

"Mine too," Lee responded. "But, right now, I think we've got bigger problems. We're getting too close to the moon. And if we end up caught in its orbit, then it'll only be a matter of time before gravity—"

"Thanks, Lee, I _do _know a thing or two about physics."

"Yeah?" Lee asked. "Well, I think we just entered the atmosphere."

Looking down, Kara felt her speed increase as gravity took hold and realized – with a sharp pang of fear, and guilt, and panic – that all three ships were falling rapidly towards the moon's surface, where they'd be promised neither rescue nor escape.

In essence, they were utterly helpless, at least until after they landed, and there was nothing Kara hated more than helplessness. It simply wasn't in her nature to _just stand by _and allow the pieces to simply _fall where they may._

But maybe that was the problem. . . Maybe she _had_ been just a bit too quick to induce this little shoot-out in the first place.

Earlier, Lee had accused her of being reckless when she'd opted to engage the raiders without the aid of a qualified wingman. And maybe he'd been right to do so. But at the time, it hadn't felt that way. In risking her life, Kara wasn't abandoning Kacey; she was protecting her. Or, at least, she'd _thought_ she was. Because, regardless of how much she tried, Kara knew she'd never be a perfect mother. Her heart was too badly scarred. And those wounds. . . Well, Kara was sure they'd never heal completely.

But Kara could still be a perfect pilot. And when she'd heard that the raiders had nukes. . .

Galactica could take her share of hits, but she was old. In some ways, she was crumbling. And it was only a matter of time before she entered a fight she couldn't win.

Glancing back at Lee, Kara forced a smile, even if he couldn't see it. And in that moment, she knew that if they kept their heads and stuck together, then surely they could make it through this. After all, they didn't have much of a choice, as orphaning Kacey was _not_ a viable option.

"Great plan," Kara finally quipped, hoping to reign in her emotions by embracing the familiar terrain of sarcastic banter. "Got any advice for the landing?"

"Yeah," Lee answered, tightly gripping his emergency ejection lever. "Don't forget to open your chute."

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. As always, reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


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